


ReWrite

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Cheating, Daddy Kink, Drama, Drunk Sex, Face-Fucking, First Time, Frottage, I guess/not really/just in case, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, STRIFE!, Spanking, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is David Lee Strider. You’re 21 years old and a little more than half way through your first semester as a Junior at Skaia University in the beautiful city of Houston, Texas. </p><p>You’re also completely fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that was fucking fast. 
> 
> So this time, I actually have a least a skeletal structure of what's happening when. 
> 
> Looks like there will be about 14 chapters unless I decide to merge shit together(which is very possible).
> 
> There will probably be some stuff copy pasted from J is for Jewelry into this, but most of it will be new.

Your name is David Lee Strider. You’re 21 years old and a little more than half way through your first semester as a Junior at Skaia University in the beautiful city of Houston, Texas. 

You’re also completely fucked. 

Rent is due in less than a week and you’re almost two hundred dollars short. 

You remember how excited you were for this apartment at the end of the Summer. “No more dorm bullshit.” You promised your roommate. At the time it seemed like such a good idea, what with Karkat’s new job. Of course, you failed to budget just how much water and electricity two college aged boys could use up in a month so here you are, calling your brother for help.

“It’s not even two hundred bucks dude.” He’s giving you a hard time and you’re trying very hard to keep the irritation out of your voice.

“Not even two hundred.” He mocks back, “Who the hell am I talking to?”

“Bro, stop. I know you have it. You could probably wipe your ass with a hundred dollar bill on a daily basis and be totally fine for the rest of your life.”

“Yeah probably.” You can feel the smirk you know is there through the damn phone.

“So what, you’re not going to help out your little brother? Your own flesh and blood?” 

“Kid, the value of the dollar-”

“Is that a no?” He fucking laughs. That goddamn douche-chuckle that makes you want to punch him right in his perfectly angled jaw. You can’t, though, so you settle for pressing the end call button hard enough for the pixels around your thumb to go dark and wavy. 

The groan you let loose has Karkat peeking out of his room, a mop of dark hair coming around the corner. 

“You ok?” He asks, and you’re pretty sure it’s the quietest you’ve heard him.

“Yeah,” You laugh, the sound bitter. “Just, y’know, totally broke.”

“Second job?” He comes around the corner and leans against the wall, arms crossed against his chest. 

“Starting to look that way.” The admittance comes out in a sigh, and you run your hand through your hair in pure agitation. 

“Mario Kart?” 

“Fuck, yes.” 

__________

School the next day is awful. You can’t concentrate worth shit because all you can do is worry. At least you get to see Jade in your Biology class later in the afternoon. The professor is droning on and she honestly seems just about as bored as you do. You nudge her foot under the table until she looks at you.

“What?” She whispers, and leans in towards you. She looks genuinely curious and interested in what you have to say, god you love this girl. 

“Know any places that are hiring on campus?” Her back straightens a bit and you can hear the gears work in her head as she chews on her bottom lip. 

“There’s Buddy’s?”

“I am never working in a bar.”

“Roy’s?”

“Could you imagine me in a fucking apron?” She laughs at that, loudly with her head thrown back. The room goes quiet, the professor looking pointedly at her before clearing his throat and continuing.

“That’s all I can think of!” She and Karkat are the only two people alive who can pull off a loud whisper. “Besides, coolkid, I thought you worked at that one music store?”

“Melodee? Yeah, and the shit hours they give me on top of minimum wage ain’t cutting it.”

“Well, you could always get a sugar daddy!” She giggles behind her hand as you raise a brow to her, an uncontrollable grin coming over your face.

“The hell has gotten into you, Harley? Did that really just come out of your mouth?”

“Just saying! For someone with your looks it wouldn’t be hard to get someone to pamper you.”

“Aww, thanks Harles, your confidence in my ability to be a successful prostitute brings a tear of relief to my eye. Here I thought I’d be an old, dried up ho by 30.” 

“More like 25,” She sticks her tongue out at you. You shove her and she screams. 

The two of you are, of course, kicked out of class.

You decide to walk her home, since it’s not horrifically far in the other direction of your place. 

The conversation with her is nice. You kind of missed her. The two of you got along famously freshman year. To be honest, you had a really big crush on her for a few months. You guys just kind of got busy and stopped hanging out and the infatuation just kind of faded on its own. 

You walk her to her door and she calls you her Knight and you barely resist the temptation to kiss her hand before you start your trek home.

By the time you get inside, it’s almost 7 o’clock. Jade’s suggestion rings loudly in your head.

A sugar daddy. Riiiiiight. 

Do people even do that shit anymore?

Or ever, for that matter?

You could definitely see that being like…an Urban Legend or some shit.

Karkat should be home so you drop your backpack in your room and invite yourself into his. 

“Hey, Karkarooni, what are you up to?” 

“Homework.” He growls, finishes a problem, and looks up at you. “And if you ever call me Karkarooni again, I’ll fucking gut you.” He looks down to his homework and shakes his head. Unfortunately for him, you can see that smile he’s trying so hard to hide.

“Yeah, not my best work.” You lean on his desk and cross your arms, staring down at him for a solid three minutes before he finally gets uncomfortable and looks over at you. “Wanna get drunk?”

His reply is rushed and absolutely immediate. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.” He stands up and leaves the room, pulling you by the sleeve. 

Three days after you moved in, you made a list of house rules. Number four on that list, now that you can legally have alcohol in the house, is that there always needs to be alcohol in the house. If it’s running low, you buy more before you drink the rest. 

You follow him to the kitchen and he pulls out the Viniq. That was your buy, you told him it was for ironic reasons but it honestly makes you feel really cool to pretty much drink the universe in a wine glass. 

Tonight you get cups though. Big boy cups where one and a half of those fuckers will definitely get you somewhere. So he pours one for you, and himself, and he sets up a movie that you know the both of you will end up talking through anyway. 

“So,” He says, and fuck are you two really that predictable? “Any leads on a job?” You groan and stretch your feet out on the coffee table.

“I asked Jade today and she says she thinks Buddy’s and Roy’s is hiring.” He scoffs.

“I can’t even imagine you in an apron.” 

“That’s what I said!” You laugh and take a big long sip of your drink. Maybe it was a little closer to a guzzle. “And then she says ‘you should get a sugar daddy!’” Your laugh tapers off into your drink and Karkat shoots a look over to you.

“Dave, you’re not seriously considering…” You choke on your drink and furiously shake your head. 

“What? No dude, c’mon.” The hand that’s not holding your drink comes up defensively.

“Dave, I know that little drifting ‘hehehe’. You’re really fucking thinking about it.” 

“Ugh, dude stop. I’m not.” You throw your head back into the couch with a groan. 

“Don’t lie to me, asshole.” He sighs and straightens up, “Y’know what, Dave? I don’t even give a shit. You wanna go ride some old guy for money, fucking go for it. I’m not going to get involved.” 

“Watch the damn movie, Karkat.” 

You hate yourself half an hour later for pretty much signing up for 2 more hours of Good Luck Chuck in total silence. You pour yourself a second glass halfway through, mostly to get out of the room for the sex scene. When you get back, after taking your sweet-ass time, Karkat is drifting on the couch. You help him stumble sleepily to his bed, turn off the movie and retire to your room. 

You try to sleep, you really do, but your brain won’t shut the fuck up asking questions, mainly about how to get into that kind of relationship with someone. A sigh rumbles in your chest as you sit up and pull your laptop in front of you and open it. 

After a quick Google search (just wanna know, just curious) you find a few sources on it. Apparently the community abhors the idea that it’s basically prostitution. They claim it’s a relationship, and a mutually beneficial one at that. You find a site called Seeking Arrangement, that’s basically a dating site for these people. 

Couldn’t hurt to try, right? 

You hate every muscle in your body that helps you to make your profile, filling it out with your information. You don’t even remember filling out your bio, you just kind of blacked out for a minute, but up it goes, and now all you need to do is wait while it’s approved and then….

…and then what exactly? 

You really should have thought this through a little better, but as a wave of exhaustion sweeps over you, you promptly decide to worry about it in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, shit is starting to happen, I guess? 
> 
> Whoo.

And worry you do. 

You wake up and check your phone, seeing a notification from your email. The cheery statement of “Your profile has been approved!” brings with it a feeling of apprehension, a little excitement, and a pinch of something not too far from dread.

You’re not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that you only have one class today, bright and early but at least somewhat distracting. However, it gets increasingly difficult to be good and take notes while your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Once; your fingers twitch against your pen. You settle in your seat better and zone in on the monotonous tone spewing information. 

Twice; you take a deep breath, tapping your pencil against the table and scribbling a word before realizing that that’s not at all what you meant to write and erasing it, bringing your focus back to the professor. 

A third. Wow, really? 

The fourth has your hands itching to check the notifications but you know this professor is a total asshole about phones. 

Your eyes flick to the clock. 20 minutes, Strider, just wait it out. 

They go by slowly, probably the longest 20 minutes of your life. 

Three of the notifications are emails, all from Seeking Arrangement and all sharing the message “You received a new message”. The fourth is a text from Karkat, letting you know that he went over to John’s. 

God you hate that kid. Freshman year he had this nasty habit of shoving you when he saw you, stealing your glasses and shouting “freak eyes!” with his douche bag friends. 

You know that Karkat has a crush on him, he knows you hate it. It’s a stalemate, so you deal. 

You text him the obligatory “k” and hurry home to check your other messages. 

Your front door closes behind you and you let out a breath that it feels like you’ve been holding since class got out. You look to the kitchen, torn between stalling and getting a glass of water, maybe a snack, you should probably do the dishes too…or getting on with it already and checking your goddamn messages. 

With a pained groan, you decide on the latter, heading to your bedroom and throwing your backpack in some vague direction of your desk. You land on your bed with a sigh and open up your laptop. 

The site is still up from last night and at the top you see that, yep, three messages are waiting for you. 

The first is from this older looking guy, and when you check his profile and see that he’s almost twice the age of your bro, you quickly delete his message without reading it.

The next guy is super fucking hot. Dark hair, tan, built, looks to be in his late twenties/early thirties, but when you read his message, you are immediately turned off. “Let’s hit the gym and get our tan on” is not something that appeals to you, so you delete his message too. 

The last message is from a man who’s eyes are blocked out in his picture. Besides what you can’t see, he’s very handsome: closely shaved, strong jaw, and dark brown hair feathered with gray under a fedora. At first you scoff because, honestly, really? But it seems to fit him so well that you just kind of get over the fact that he looks lIke he's from the damn 40's. It works for him. He introduces himself as James Egbert. He’s 44 years old and is the CEO and heir of a global company. He apologizes for the incomplete photo and hopes you understand that he prefers to be discrete due to his position. He says he’s interested in getting to know you and hopes to hear from you soon. 

So far, so good. You check out his profile: 6’2”, average body type, non-smoker, social drinker. The “prefer not to say” next to “children:” has you a little uneasy, but the fat number next to “income” wipes all doubt from your mind.

You immediately message him back.

His message was so proper that you’re inclined to be formal as well, and you type out your entire message before erasing it (twice) before you settling on something that sounds more like you without sounding…too much like you:

_“Hey, James, it’s nice to hear from you. You seem like a cool person, I’d definitely be interested in getting to know you as well. If you can get past the hideous selfie that I was possessed to put as my profile picture, my bio must be awesome. What do you wanna know?”_

You re-read it and you automatically hate yourself but, of fucking course, you impulsively press send anyway. Great, now you look like a jackass.

Oh well, not like it’s any different than any other day in your life. Guess now all there is to do is wait. 

And, hey, Karkat’s not home and probably won’t be for a while. You check the clock on your computer, 4:32. Yeah, that gives you a few hours, so you pack a bowl to settle some nerves and also, let’s face it, out of pure boredom. 

So you take a few hits from the piece, some orange swirled piece of shit spoon you got handed down from your brother. It get’s the job done, you guess, and it’s a hell of a lot better than a joint. 

Your stomach growls as you ash the bowl. Pizza sounds awesome but you’re broke enough as it is so you settle on digging through your mess of a pantry, pulling out an almost empty bag of Doritos and, fuck YES, some canned ravioli. 

Chef Boyardee, you beautiful, fat bastard. 

You watch the bowl of ravioli spin in the microwave with rapt attention until the shrill beep alerting you that your food is ready makes you jump out of your damn skin. It’s too hot to eat but, like a dumbass, you shove it in your face anyway and burn the roof of your mouth. You swallow painfully and rip a paper towel from the roll, wiping the mess on your face. Your phone goes off, the cheery little tune that tells you it’s an email ringing through the silent room. “You received a new message” greets you with James’s picture under the headline when you open it. 

You open the site from your phone and wait for your inbox to load with bated breath. It leaves you in a puff of air as you read what he’s typed. 

_“I think you pull off the ‘Duck Face’ very well. There’s a certain charm to it, I suppose. Or maybe it’s just you. As for what I want to know, we’ll start off with something rather basic: what are your expectations from this relationship, should it evolve into something more?”_

You’re extremely used to people hitting on you, you’re kind of hella attractive, but something about this specific man’s approval has your face heating up as you read through the message, once, twice. You read it through a third time, and even a fourth. You’re…not really sure how to respond? You didn’t think this far ahead, you’re not even sure how this kind of relationship works. You assume there’s sex and money involved but that’s about as far as your knowledge about the subject goes. 

The last thing you want is to seem clueless, that’s not cool. You think for a split second about texting your bro and asking what he knows about it(you’re sure it’s at least _something_ ) but that thought is quickly shoved to the back because _why the fuck would you want your brother to know that you have anything to do with sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships_???

Your best friend, Google, tells you that there’s more than just sex. It involves companionship as a whole, dates, hanging out, traveling, in some cases. 

And with that information, you still have absolutely fuck all of an idea of what you’re doing. 

You guess your best bet is honesty. Chilled out, aloof honesty. 

You type out your reply and reread it twice for typos:

“Well, I am very charming. And I gotta be honest, I haven’t really done this before, so I was kinda hoping you could tell me. Financial help and getting off was about all I had planned.”

You finish your ravioli and go back to your room, managing to finish some of your homework before The Call of The Internet takes it’s hold and you find yourself laying on your bed with your laptop on your chest. 

You check your email, screw around on Tumblr, watch a movie, browse jewelry for your labret and lobes(you spend like 15 minutes staring wistfully at these plugs that were practically made for you, made only in your size and out of amber with perfectly preserved insects in them), before your eye lids start getting too heavy and you turn off the light and strip, tossing your shades on your desk, before tucking yourself in. 

And your phone goes off from the floor next to your bed. 

You pull it to you and when your eyes adjust, you unlock the screen. 

“Perfect.” From James, nothing else, just that word.

Cool. 

You’re asleep in minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bluh bluh bluh.

It’s been about a week since James messaged you and, except when you’re at work or school, you’ve been talking pretty much non-stop. He seems to really like you and once you get past his pressed and polished exterior, the guy actually has a sense of humor. It’s very dry, which you can obviously appreciate being raised the way you were, and he keeps up with your wit and snark very well. 

When he’s not trying to make you laugh, he’s very gentle, dropping pet names every once and a while and complimenting your pictures when you exchange your selfies with his obviously cropped pictures from various outings. 

The first time he sends you a completely unblocked picture of himself, you’re kind of floored. His eyes are absolutely piercing, and you’ve always had a thing for blue eyes. 

(Karkat’s are this very light, almost gray, blue and sometimes you catch yourself staring. (thank god for shades.))

You never really thought you’d be one of those people who thought older guys could be hot, but damn, you feel like you could get in a lot of trouble with James. 

After about a week of exchanging information, expectations, pictures, stories, you feel very comfortable with him. 

He asks to have lunch with you in town so you can meet face to face before anything is entirely decided. You, of course, agree and you set up a date and time and place before logging off for the night. 

__________

 

Your finger taps nervously against the steering wheel as you turn left on to a familiar street downtown. You’re grateful for James’s decision to meet publicly, but you’re still so anxious. You’ve seen way too many horror movies where the blind date turns into a torture scene in some dank basement in the middle of nowhere. Bro is probably to thank for that. You pull your car up to the little café, sliding some coins into the meter before going inside. 

Your hands shake as you look around for someone resembling the pictures he sent of himself. 

God, you can’t believe you’re actually doing this. You take a deep breath and look to the side when you see a white fedora over an opened newspaper. That’s gotta be him, right? You walk over to the table and clear your throat.

“James?” The man looks up at you and smiles. His eyes were great in the pictures, but holy shit, that color of blue shouldn’t even be possible on a human. Not that you‘re really in the position to say anything. He’s standing up and saying something, but you’re too lost in the ocean of his irises. C’mon Strider, say something! “Huh?” Ughhhhh. He laughs deeply, and you think you can feel your balls shrivel in the pure testosterone that is this man. 

“I said, it’s nice to finally see you in person, David.” He’s holding his hand out for you to shake and you hope your hands aren’t a sweaty mess as you take it. 

“Yeah, uhh, likewise.” Nailed it. His smile widens and he pulls your chair out for you and you sit down before he pushes you in. When he sits back down, he tells you to order anything you like, pointing out that “the chocolate cake here is rather good.” You order and the waitress pours your coffee even though it’s almost three in the afternoon. The two of you talk over your mugs and when your food comes you comment on his correctness. 

But really, if the heir of Betty Crocker says that a cake is good, he better fucking be right.

He asks you about class and work and you try not to talk around mouthfuls. You ask him about work and he gives vague answers as always. You sure as hell don’t complain. He asks you about Thanksgiving break that he knows is coming up for you and if you have plans. 

“Probably working, Me and Bro don’t really do anything for Thanksgiving.” You take a swig of coffee to wash down a lump of sugar in your throat. He nods in consideration.

“Well my son is spending it with his mother if you’d like to come over for dinner. I make all of the food from scratch, and it‘d be rather lonely spending it by myself.”

“Uh, sure. Sounds good to me, not like I have anything else to do.” 

“Perfect.” He smiles. 

The two of you continue talking and you quickly realize that you love the way he talks; it’s very fluid and, mixed with the deep tones of his voice, very calming. All concerns of being murdered in an alley dissipate as he speaks, subtly gesturing with his hands. You find your replies get easier, no longer tripping embarrassingly over your words. 

Around 4 o’clock, you have to say goodbye and leave to get ready for work. He gives you his personal cell number and you impulsively kiss him on the cheek as you thank him for the coffee and cake. His smile widens as he assures you that it was his “absolute pleasure”. You try to linger a bit but he shoos you off, shooting you a wink when you puff out your bottom lip. 

You can’t help smiling like an idiot your entire drive back to campus. 

_________

 

Work is slow, seeing as how it’s Wednesday evening, and you get a few stragglers but only one person comes up to the register to buy something throughout your 5 hour shift. You text Karkat out of boredom while you close up the shop and he lets you know he bought a handle of some cheap ass vodka and that his class has been cancelled for tomorrow morning and tells you, not asks, that you’re getting plastered with him. He tells you he’ll even let you pick the movie or video game.

You get home as fast as you can and when you get in, he’s facedown on the couch, a blob of black, hair and clothes, against the hideous floral print he begrudgingly let you pick out when you moved in. 

“Hey buddy.” You greet and he groans low in his throat and muffled against the cushion. “Want me to make you a drink?” He groans again and you take that as a resounding yes, so you move to the kitchen and pull the bottle out of the freezer. You laugh when you see the brand name, “cheap ass” indeed. Regardless, you look around the fridge to find something to mix it with and are very pleased to see a fresh jug of apple juice. 

Damn, he must have really wanted you to drink with him. 

You pull out two of the biggest cups you can find and pour your drinks, bringing them out to the living room and setting one on the table for him. He pulls you on the couch next to his head and promptly puts his head in your lap. What a doofus; you laugh at him. 

“Rough day?” You ask and he growls, reaching for his cup before tilting his head and downing half of it’s contents in one go, slamming the cup back in the table when he’s done. 

“You have no idea, Strider.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” And you say it teasingly but there is sincerity in it. Thankfully, he catches on to that. He proceeds to let out a huff of air before spilling out entirely into one of his famous rants. He woke up with a crick in his neck, was late for class, got kicked out for it, wasn’t even allowed to turn in his homework(which is a code that he’s been working on relentlessly for the last week or so), dropped his food in the D Hall when he went for lunch, and on top of it all The Bucktooth Wonder has been sending him “mixed signals”. 

“He’s so fucking touchy-feely, getting in my space, giving me hugs, ruffling my hair, and then he turns around with his fucking “no homo, Karkat!” horseshit.” You laugh at his impersonation before he continues. “I have no idea what the fuck to do.”

“Yeah, your courtship of the illustrious fuck boy never made sense to me.”

“Yeah, that’s because you hate his guts-”

“And for good reason.”

“But once you get past it, he’s pretty cool? And nice, and funny, not to mention he has the most strangely adorable face.” 

You say nothing, following his lead from earlier and downing half your drink. He seems to get the message and drops the topic. 

“So how was _your_ day, Dave?” You shrug.

“Pretty ok, went to class this morning. It was art class so it was fine…”

“And?”

“I, uh…” You pause and he looks up at you with furrowed brows. You down the rest of your drink to stall. “I went to work.” He barks out a laugh and pushes himself up to look you in the face.

“That’s not what you were going to say.” 

“I’m gonna go make another drink, I’ll be right back.”

He ends up following you to the kitchen, a strange look on his face when you peek around your shoulder to see him there.

“Dave.” 

“Hm?” You hum as you pour your drink. “Did you want me to top you off?” You ask innocently as you guzzle your own refill. 

“Cut the horseshit, what are you hiding?” He doesn’t seem angry, maybe a little frustrated, but mostly curious. 

“Let’s just say my money troubles are over.” You snort into your cup and sway a little when he walks over and punches you in the shoulder. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You look at him and waggle your eyebrows and you can see the realization dawn on him and you straight up _giggle_. “You fucking did it. I didn’t think you’d have the balls to actually follow through.” He throws back the rest of his drink and shoves his cup into your chest. “Pour me another drink. Jesus Christ.” And with that, he walks into the living room, laughing hysterically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter will make the explicit rating make sense.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blowjobs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freaked out for a solid like 15 minutes looking up references to John's house trying to find a dining table but they don't really have one, they have like...this side table against a wall that just kind of looks like ghetto extra counter space. 
> 
> The more you know.

The air grows more crisp as the red starts to really settle in the leaves of the trees. Thanksgiving is just a few days away and you and James have solidified plans for you to go over to his place for dinner. 

Originally, after Karkat found out about your new source of income, he got kind of weird for a few days. Anybody but you wouldn’t think there was such a thing as “less cuddly” when it came to the guy, but he definitely draws back physically. Only for a few days though. Once he saw that it didn’t change you, you guess he just decided to say “fuck it” and not let it change him either. After that, you two were back to your shoving and casually putting your heads in each others laps like it hadn’t gotten weird in the first place. 

He even lets you talk about it, let’s you babble incoherently about how nervous you are, how you have nothing nice to wear to James’s crazy domestic, home-made dinner, offers you nice sweater to wear that you immediately try on. You both laugh hysterically at your reflection; you look like such a douche bag. He hesitantly pulls out a grey button up for you to try next and you pair it with black jeans. When you finish buttoning the collar and pose for him, he clears his throat, trying to hide his smile before closing the distance between to you undo the collar and roll up the sleeves. 

“Better.” He says, nodding at his handiwork. He points to the mirror and you go to check yourself out, wolf whistling at your reflection. 

“Holy shit, I’m hot.” You pose a few times, keeping eye contact with him as your movements grow more ridiculous. 

“Ok, ok, dumbass, go change before you wrinkle it.” You roll your eyes with a grin on your face and ruffle his hair on your way out of the room. 

“Thanks.” You call out from your room as you strip. 

“You’re fucking welcome.” He shouts back.

_______________________

Thursday rolls around and here you are in front of this huge house in your Sunday best. You have to bite your tongue roughly to get yourself to knock on the first try, but you do it and not 30 seconds later, James opens the door and you’re greeted by a warm smile and an amazing smell.

“Come on in, Dave. Dinner is almost ready.” He guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back

“Smells awesome.” you say and his smile widens.

“You look great.” He repays the compliment and you feel your face heat up above your smile. 

“Sometimes it pays to wear something nicer than a t-shirt and ripped up skinny jeans, I guess.” You’re rambling, but he doesn’t seem to mind if his growing smirk is anything to go by.

“Indeed.” It’s practically a purr leaving his mouth and a small shiver shoots itself up your spine.

You just kind of stand in the foyer for a minute and he urges you to take off your shoes and make yourself at home while he walks back to the kitchen. The news is on the TV so you just kind of sit on the arm of the couch and watch idly while your mind is elsewhere. 

You’re in his house. He’s making you dinner. 

Wow.

You hear about a shooting and “something special” one particular elementary school in Kansas is doing (a food drive), before James calls you into the kitchen. There’s a goddamn feast laid out and you just kind of laugh. 

“I could’ve at least set the table for you, y’know.” He chuckles back at you and shakes his head. 

“I wouldn’t have it, you’re my guest. Now sit down, eat.” So you do. 

You groan at the first bite of turkey and he smirks at you. 

Wow, he can cook too? Is this guy even real?

“Good?” He asks and he says it with a cockiness you haven’t heard from him. He wears it well.

“Hell yeah, it is.” You nod, and he nods in turn.

“Good.” 

You make casual conversation between bites for the rest of dinner. Each bite is absolute heaven and by the time your stomach is too full to continue, you’ve barely put a dent in what he prepared. He asks if you want to watch a movie and you shrug and nod in response. He tells you to go pick one out while he cleans up. You insist on helping and he gets oddly demanding when he tells you, once again, to go pick out a movie. The look he pairs with it makes you shudder and it…

…kind of really turns you on?

“Yes sir.” you say, more in sarcasm but the almost predatory grin on his face has your cheeks heating up as you make your way through the saloon style doors. 

The movie rack next to the TV holds a lot of really shitty movies. Horrible action flicks from the late 80’s riddle the length of it with some obscure names you’ve never heard of thrown in, the covers suggesting the movies to be some horrific foreign monster films. 

“Is On Demand ok?” You call to the other room and you hear a hearty laugh in return.

“Absolutely.” 

You end up watching 28 Days Later(because fuck yes, zombie flick), but you’re not really paying attention. You’re kind of cuddled against him and all you can think about is how warm he is against you. His arm is thrown across your shoulders and you’re not really sure whether to laugh at the first date level of awkwardness in the gesture(or maybe it’s just you) or throw up from nerves. 

It’s just…you knew this would involve sex and you’re cool with that, especially with James looking the way he does, but the farthest you’ve gone with a dude is making out and maybe some drunken frottage thrown in so sue you if you’re a little anxious to inevitably take a dick up the ass. 

For now, you just go with the flow and snuggle into his side a bit, tucked under his arm with your head resting on his shoulder. 

You almost jump when you feel his hand come down to your chest and gently rub the area just below your collarbones. After a bit, you relax into the touch, placing a candid hand on his thigh and licking your lips. 

Next you know, he’s pulling your chin and your lips are on his. You can’t help the red that tints your face at the embarrassing gasp you take through your nose and his chuckle vibrates your teeth. You use them to nip at his lip and he brushes his tongue against your top lip. It sets you off and has you crushing your open mouth to his, your hand sliding up his thigh of its own accord and suddenly he’s pulling you into his lap, his hands coming to sit on your hips with a certain weight that has you squirming in his grasp.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you suck his tongue into your mouth, the action moving his hands to bring your hips flush to him. You pull back to gasp in a breath and when his teeth meet your throat it comes back out in a shuddery moan. The hard-on against your ass is insistent and you grind down into it. James’s grip tightens and you know there’ll be a mark on your skin from where his teeth are baring down. 

You can’t really bring yourself to give a shit.

His hands come to the front of your jeans to undo the button and slide down the zipper. They immediately slide down the back of your pants and grip your ass through your boxers. His fingers flex and squeeze the meat of your cheeks and you groan, rolling your hips, but when a finger slips into your crack to run over your asshole you freeze and choke on a shrill squeak.

“H-hold up.” He tenses up and retracts his hands, pulling back from the juncture of your neck to reveal concern creasing his features. “You should probably know that I’ve never done this before. The whole ride on the bologna pony…and pretty much anything that involves a dick that isn’t mine.” He looks shocked and you stammer, “Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t some gay-for-pay scheme. The opportunity just never really presented itself to mess around with guys more than some making out and grinding. B-but I like you and you look really good so don’t think I don’t actually want this. Because I do, y’know? I really-” He cuts you off with a chaste kiss that has your whole body relaxing. 

“That’s fine, David. I’d be happy to teach you.” 

“Y-yeah?”

“Yes. In fact, why don’t we start our first lesson now? I’m sure you already know how to use your hands, so why don’t I teach you how to use your mouth?” He smirks and you can feel your face turning beet red, but you lick your lips and nod. 

“Yeah, ok.” 

“Perfect, kneel in front of me.” Holy shit this is actually happening. You slip off the couch and drop to your knees in front of his spread legs, glancing at the tent in his pants. His hands reach for your face and his fingers tug at the temples of your shades. After placing them on the arm of the couch, he runs a hand through your hair and smiles down at you. 

“Take off my belt and unfasten my slacks.” And you’re just happy he doesn’t comment on your eyes, but your heart is still beating out of your chest as you grasp the leather at his hips and pull the strap out of the buckle, sliding it out of the belt loops. You realize your hands are shaking as they come to the waist of his slacks and he must see it too because his hand comes down to cup your cheek reassuringly. As your hands steady, you slip the hook from it’s place and slide the zipper down, cupping him through the material and looking back up at him. His smile holds pride and it sends a shiver through your body. 

“Good boy.” he says and you can’t quite cut back the moan that leaks from between your teeth. You squeeze him once more before you draw him out of his briefs carefully. For some reason, you didn’t expect it to be this big, and for another, you’re happy it is. You’ve seen enough porn to know the basics, so you kiss the head, tongue darting out to taste it. You look up to him for approval but his eyes are shut, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. 

You kiss your way down his shaft and lick your way back up, hearing his breath getting heavier before parting your lips and taking the head into your mouth. You like the taste of his skin, masculine under your tongue, so you sink deeper, careful to roll your lips over your teeth. His hand comes back to your hair, gripping lightly and guiding you further until the head hits the back of your throat. You compulsively swallow around it and he groans above you, tugging your hair and rewarding you with another “good boy” that has you moaning around his length. Even without much of a gag reflex, your jaw gets tired pretty quick so you pull off and go back to kissing and sucking around the shaft, paying extra attention to all the spots that you know you like. When you flick your tongue against his frenulum, his cock twitches under your tongue. So you do it again. He gasps so you stay there for a bit, stroking him with one hand while the other slides down to your pants to jerk yourself. 

Your jaw stops hurting so you go back to sliding his cock down your throat, his fingers gripping your hair to pull you back, causing you to moan before pulling you back on to him. You let him fuck your face, your hand coming away to rest on his thigh while your other works your prick quickly. The noises he makes makes your cock jump and at one particular noise, a harsh flavor fills your mouth, you pull back and receive two more strings on your face. You realize that he just came. You just made this man cum and the thought has you finishing yourself, whining as you beat yourself through your orgasm. 

You’re panting as you rest your head on his thigh. He laughs, not his usual fatherly chuckle, but a flat out laugh. 

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Scouts honor. No gag reflex and watching a lot of porn probably helped.” It’s out of your mouth before you register what the fuck you’re saying and you can’t even be bothered to feel embarrassed about it. Not when he laughs that richly and strokes your hair like that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters down gang! Only like 10 more to go!

Over the next few weeks, you learn some things. 

The first thing is something that James teaches you, which is that what you originally called “butt stuff” is actually called “ass play”. 

The second thing he also teaches you, which is that you really, really enjoy ass play. 

Like a lot. You can (and have) finished from ass play alone. 

He hasn’t fucked you yet, wants to make sure you’re absolutely ready. 

The third thing you learn is from school(shocker). Which is that Jade has turned into quite the party animal since Freshman year. She comes into class one day still drunk from the night before. You ended up leaving class early to take her home and watch movies with her at her place, shoving saltines and ginger ale in her face. You only leave after she falls asleep and you leave a trashcan by her bed just in case. 

The fourth thing, you learn on your birthday and from alcohol. Alcohol helps you find out that Karkat is a very good kisser. Maybe it’s all of the stupid romcoms he watches, but it’s so gentle that it floors you. The next morning you don’t speak of it and it continues to be a topic well avoided. Which is fine because you don’t care to talk about it. 

You’re surprised by how not-weird everything is. 

In fact, you’re starting to suspect he may not even remember. 

The semester ends in a week and a half and exams are raring their ugly heads in the form of zombies overtaking the campus. You’ve had three people run into you today, one of which was muttering hysterically under his breath about formulas. He doesn’t even look up at you before he keeps walking. Poor bastard. 

You have three exams next week, which you’re strangely not worried about at all. 

Nope.

Not a bit. 

Well, technically you have four but the fourth is for your art class and you finished that project weeks ago; your portfolio is already wrapped up. 

What you’re more worried about is the fact that Bro wants you over for the break. He didn’t necessarily _say_ that but you know that’s what he meant. 

What you’re _even more_ worried about is that when you tried to use Karkat as an excuse to not come home, he insisted that you should just bring him over too. 

Karkat has never met your bro in person and you were planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible, but you know better than to not show up. Dirk would probably end up coming to your place anyway if you did that. 

Sex is always a great distraction though, so you text James and pretty much invite yourself over. He never seems to mind and, of course, replies with an enthusiastic “yes” of sorts. 

You walk home from a campus café and are surprised to see Karkat on the couch. 

“Uh, hey.” You greet. He looks over to you from his cocoon and nods in a teary reply. He’s watching a movie so you keep it short. “Gonna change and then I’m headed over to James’s. I’ll see you later.” He sniffs in as manly a fashion as he can muster and chokes on an “Ok.”. You nod and awkwardly walk to your room. 

______________

You arrive at James’s house around 8 o’clock. You’ve taken to just letting yourself in, a habit which he welcomed with open arms. You can hear him moving around in the kitchen as you toe off your shoes and when you’re barefoot, you sneak over to and through the saloon style doors to see him looking into the open fridge. You silently walk up and wrap your arms around his middle, enjoying the feeling of him jumping against you. 

“Boo.” You say sarcastically and prop yourself on your toes to rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Dave, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I didn’t even hear you come in.” He’s breathing heavily and you nuzzle into his ear.

“Kind of the point.” You tell him and he laughs. “What are you doing?” He turns in the circle of your arms and you shift to rest them on his shoulders. His hands fall to your hips.

“I was looking for a snack.” He responds and pulls a mischievous smile. “But you’re looking rather delicious.” He dips his head to nibble at your neck.

“Am I?” You work very hard to keep the shudder out of your voice, but he manages to pull a gasp from you when he bites down.

“Quite. I could eat you right up.” He trails up to nudge at acrylic in your lobe before scraping his teeth on the shell of your ear.

“Good idea.” You breathe and you can feel him smile against your cheek. 

“Do you mind if we get creative?” His voice drips temptation and you’re pretty sure even if he pulled out a spiked paddle and made you wear a hood, you’d still go along with it. 

“Gonna teach me some things?” You ask and his only response is a smirk before he grabs your shoulders from behind and steers you upstairs to his room. He closes the door behind him and you turn to face him, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders before he grabs your wrists and gives you this _look_.

“Have you ever been tied up, David?” The way he asks it makes your mouth run dry. 

“My bro gave me fuzzy pink handcuffs as a joke for my 18th birthday and I accidentally locked myself in them for 3 hours before I found out the releases, if that counts.” You say wryly and he laughs.

“Care to try again?” You lick your lips.

“Definitely.” He dips in to roughly bite your lip, making you whine, before pulling back and pointing to the bed. 

“Strip and lay down.” He commands, voice edged with just enough authority to make your knees weak as you follow his orders. You lie down with your back against the bed, not quite sure what to do with your limbs. James hums appreciatively and walks over to the bed, opening the drawer to the nightstand and pulling out some rope and a bottle of lube. You’re silent as he works over you, tying your arms carefully to the headboard. When he’s done he looks down at you and removes your shades, placing them on the nightstand before leaning down to look you in the eye. You fidget and look away.

“David, look at me.” You do. “If at any point you wish to stop, you will let me know.” You raise an eyebrow at him but nod your head. “Say it.” You shudder and attempt to get some moisture back in your mouth before answering.

“If I want to stop, I’ll tell you.”

“Good boy.” He purrs against your lips and captures them with his own before reaching over to stoke your dick. Your breathing picks up as he deepens the kiss and you groan when his palm twists as it meets the head. He ducks to bite at your neck and shoulders and chuckles darkly when you your hips twitch, accented with a gasp.

You wish you could touch him, reach over and loosen his tie, run your hands over his chest and shoulders. Of course, you can’t. You’re completely helpless to what he has in mind for you and the thought stirs a groan in your chest as your hips stutter against his fist. He pulls back just enough to speak against your lips.

“Eager?” 

“Maybe just a bit.” You say, and impress yourself with how even you sound. 

“Good.” He adjusts his position to where he’s on his hands and knees above you, trailing his way down your body with his mouth until he reaches your groin. You can feel his eyes on you as you try to keep yours closed, but when you feel his breath on the head of your length you can’t help but look down. The sight of him hovering over you with such intent makes your cock twitch. “What do we say, David?” You whimper. 

“Please.” It comes out in a breath, very close to a whisper.

“Please, what?” His hand comes over to stroke you again and you gasp.

“Please, Sir.” The name leaves you in a rush, makes your chest tight and your gut warm.

“Good boy.” He says and rewards you with his lips wrapped in a tight circle around you. He doesn’t start slow, goes straight for pushing you ever closer to the edge and you can’t help but cry out as he takes you into his throat. You hear the pop of a cap and excitement floods through you, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. His slick finger rubs against your entrance and you groan, trying to push against him as well as you can while locked in place. He laughs and the vibrations of it send a thrill up your spine. He keeps teasing you and you guess he wants you to beg. Which you’re totally not above doing. 

“Please, Sir. Please, please, please.” You guessed correctly because his finger slides in and you moan as he presses it against your walls. “More, please.” You beg breathlessly, not being able to wait for him to find that certain spot. He hums, as if considering, before a second finger joins the first. You hiss and throw your head back, pushing against him once more. He stretches you, letting you acclimate before pressing against your walls with intent. He finds your prostate quickly and when he does, you practically _squeal_.

Two fingers is about as far as you’ve gone with him, but right now you just want more. 

More, more, more. 

It takes you a second to realize you’re actually begging out loud, squirming against your bonds. Every time the rope catches a little firework goes off in your brain in a reminder of how much power he holds over you. 

More, more, more. 

He must get the message because there’s a third finger pressing in and, God, you love how full you feel. He scissors the digits for a bit, ever diligent in bobbing his head, before thrusting them in and out, and you keen when they press against your sweet spot. 

“Oh God, Sir, fuck me.” He pops off your dick with a lewd sound and looks at you. 

“David.” 

“I’m serious, oh fuck, please.” You pant and struggle against the rope and he looks at you with something that’s a mix of shock and amusement, perhaps a touch of concern. 

“If you’re sure-”

“I am. I am, come on, please.” You can’t place the look on his face as he crawls back up to your face and kisses you fiercely. You whine into his mouth and scrape your teeth against his lip. He doesn’t bother undressing, just unfastens his slacks and pushes them down to his thighs. The amount of lube he slicks himself with seems ridiculous but you guess he probably knows better than you do. 

You’re grateful for his judgment because even with how he prepped you and how slicked he is, it’s still a bit of work to get him all the way inside, your chest fluttering as he peppers your face with encouraging kisses. 

He slowly rocks, never really still, never quite moving, while you adjust through hitching breaths. He’s so much bigger than three fingers. He stretches you further, reaches deeper, and holy shit it’s only your first time but you think you might be a bottom. You’d laugh at that thought if you didn’t need all of your concentration in unclenching your muscles. The shushing and encouraging words help. He kisses you and strokes your cheek with his thumb and you feel yourself relax. 

“Good boy.” He murmurs against your lips and you sigh when we begins stroking your cock again. 

“I think I’m good.” You state and he nods and kisses you again, pulling out to the head before pushing back in. You groan and yeah, it hurts, but he’s so gentle with you that the pain fades fast, quickly being replaced with pure sensation as his movements gain intent and speed. Soon enough he’s actually thrusting and even though he hasn’t hit your sweet spot yet, you pant for how good it feels. He stops momentarily, and you whine at the loss of friction but he shushes you and moves your legs to wrap around his waist. You follow his silent instruction and hook your ankles around his back before he hoists you up by your waist and picks back up where he left off. 

He hits your prostate dead on and you cry out a curse. He smirks and does it again, and again, and Jesus you wish you had something to hold on to but the closest you come is gripping the rope as your toes curl. You become a never ending source of noise as he fucks you hard and fast. You’re aware that you’re probably panting like you’re dying, but every nerve ending is so set alight that you don’t have any room to be self conscious. 

Now, you’ve had a lot a sex. Karkat once jokingly called you the campus bike (“Everybody gets a ride.”), but you never knew sex could be like this. Sure, you know girls feel good, and you’ve seen enough gay porn to know that the prostate is a magical thing, but it doesn’t live up to what James is doing to you. The _noises_ this man pulls out of you are sounds you never thought you’d hear yourself make and as he wraps his hand around your cock and pumps you smoothly in time with his thrusts, you know you’re done for. Tight heat coils in your gut and your arms are starting to get sore from pulling against your restraints.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You pant the word on repeat and James dips down to bite your lower lip harshly. You whine high in your throat and thrust into his fist once, twice, and you cum, gasping as he beats you through it. His groans get louder and his hips lock up as he bites marks on your neck and shoulders. You suddenly feel very warm and he sighs greatly as he pulls out and collapses to your left. You attempt to snuggle up to him but your arms catch and he huffs out a laugh as he picks lazily at the knots until your arms are free to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.” You say and he laughs brightly. 

“Of course.” You’re quiet for a moment before you remember that you have your Bio exam in two days. Stupid school. You whine uncomfortably and stick your face into James’s chest. “What’s wrong?” He sounds really concerned and you laugh softly.

“I have exams next week.” You say. He nods and hums, stoking your hair. “And I’ll probably be really busy, so I won’t be able to see you.” He kisses your head. “And I’m going to my brother’s place for the break so I probably wont see you until after Christmas.” 

“I see.” He says. “I’m a patient man, but I know patience isn’t your forte.” You snort. “I did get you something, though. For the holidays, I mean.” You perk up and look at him.

Oh boy, presents. 

“Would you like it when you get back or now?” 

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.” You joke and he chuckles and nods, grunting as he stands up, fixes his clothes and walks over to the closet. You sit up as he rummages, but it’s not long before he pulls out a black box and returns to you with it. It’s not small but it’s velvety and for a split second you’re terrified he might propose or something. He hands it to you and you’re a bit hesitant to open it. When you do, your jaw drops. 

They’re plugs. Very similar to the ones you’ve had your eye on for a few weeks now. You’d never expected to buy them, or even see them in person(they were listed for 700 fucking dollars, after all) but here they are, and now they’re yours. You just kind of look at them, and then look at James, and then back to them. 

“How did…?” 

“I do listen to you, you know.” He grins and continues, “There are points when you talk and I’m sure you’re not even aware of what you’re saying. You ramble, but I do listen. I find it endearing.” 

Your face spreads into what feels like the most ridiculous grin and you nod, moving to remove the 5 dollar pair of acrylic plugs and pop in the new ones. The weight of the solid amber feels comfortable and you can feel your face heat up at the proud smile he gives you. 

“Thanks, they’re awesome.”

“My pleasure. Happy early Holidays.” You snort and nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, folks! I'm rereading everything to check pacing and shit and noticing a looot of typos. 
> 
> So I guess I'm looking for a beta/editor. If you're interested, go ahead and send me a message at my tumblr: turntechtesticle.tumblr.com.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat's POV for this one. He has another one later on so I figured I'd make a few chapters from his eyes.

He fidgets the entire drive. Literally for all 98 minutes, he’s moving: tapping the steering wheel, curling his lip to poke the ball of his piercing with his tongue, itching his nose, pushing his hair out of his face, adjusting his shades. 

Your irritation has been slowly building up and when he coughs, you snap. 

“Would you calm the fuck down!?” You hiss and he looks over to you and raises a brow.

“Obviously, Karkat, I am perfectly calm.” You bark out a harsh laugh.

“Yeah, ok, that’s a huge fucking lie.” He sighs greatly and pushes his bangs out of his face for probably the 15th time in the last half hour. 

“Shut up, so I’m a little nervous. Sue me.” His shades block you from seeing his eyes but you _know_ he’s rolling them. 

“I don’t even get why you’re nervous. He’s your brother, you two seem to be on pretty good terms.” 

“He’s just…” He pauses and plays with the labret post in his lip again. “He’s kind of…“ He pauses again, scratching the side of his head. “Eccentric?” He says it as if he‘s tasting the word. “and I have no idea how you’ll react to him. He’s the master at pushing buttons and you kind of leave your “release the A Bomb” button on full display.” You huff and cross your arms.

“I do not-”

“Holy fuck, dude, you totally do. Don’t even deny it because we are both painfully aware of how true it is.” You don’t reply. He sighs. “I’m just kind of freaking out because I know how he can be and I know how you can be and there’s like an 80% chance that these two weeks are going to be catastrophic.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” You tell him, rolling your eyes before looking forward at the road. You see his head turn to look at you. You look over to him. His shades are down to show you the look of absolute smug bullshit he’s giving you. You glare back.

“Oh yeah, sure thing, kettle.”

“Look at the fucking road, Dave.” And he laughs, but does so.

For the last fifteen minutes he jiggles his knee and you do your best to ignore it. 

You pull into a parking garage on the bottom floor of a very tall building. You get out and hear the trunk open, Dave stepping out shortly afterwards and stretching, his shirt lifting to show his prominent hip bones. You look away.

“Here’s hoping that the elevator is working.” You look at him as you jerk your arm to unjam your suitcase in the mess of the trunk. “Don’t really feel like taking the stairs to the top floor.”

Yikes, neither do you. You show him your crossed fingers and he laughs as he picks out his own baggage and slams the trunk shut. 

The elevator is, in fact, working. 

Thank God. 

You can practically feel Dave buzzing next to you on the ride up and when he gets out of the elevator he walks more slowly than you think you’ve ever seen him, pausing when he reaches the door at the end of the hall. He turns to face you. 

“Whatever you do, don’t scream at him, he’ll probably find it hilarious and try to push your buttons even more.”

“I’m sure he isn’t _that_ bad, Dave.” He sighs and shakes his head, pushing the door open. 

“Alright, welcome to Casa de Strider.” You step inside and quietly crane your neck to look around. It looks like a pretty normal bachelor pad, kind of messy, mismatch furniture, huge TV. 

Dave steps in after you and closes the door behind him. 

“You can put your stuff in my room, it’s-” A latch opens up from the ceiling above him, what you assumed to be a crawl space, and empties a load of colorful, phallic-nosed dolls. He freezes and when the rain is over you see his jaw is clenched hard. “Fucking shit.” he hisses through clenched teeth and you hear a laugh come from right behind you. You jump and turn around, are met with white and black and ink and steel and steel and steel. 

So this is his brother. He’d actually be really handsome if he didn’t dress like a total tool, you think. You look over to Dave and see he’s getting his bearings back. 

“Fuck you, Bro.” He says. The way the older man laughs makes your throat dry. 

“Just like old times, right?” 

“Whatever, I’m not cleaning this shit up.” He carefully maneuvers out of the pile and gestures to the man in the pointy shades. “Karkat, this is my brother, Dirk.” You nod in greeting and his voice gets tight, almost in warning. “Bro, this is my roommate slash best friend, Karkat.” Dirk holds out a biker-gloved hand and you take it. 

“Pleasure to meet you, KitKat.” Your grip tightens severely and his eyebrows raise high, a smirk playing on his lips.

“It’s Karkat.” You bite. “And likewise.” He laughs and removes his hand to clap you on the shoulder. He steps over to Dave and they just stare at each other for a few moments. Dirk, inspecting his charge and Dave, challenging him to say anything embarrassing. The older wolf-whistles. 

“Nice plugs, little man, where’d you get the money for those?” You see his face grow a tinge pink but his expression doesn’t change. 

“Saved up.” Dirk’s head cocks to the side and his smirk grows into a dangerous grin.

“And barely a month ago you were begging for money.” He says speculatively, and his gaze snaps over to you. “KitKat here taking care of you?” He sneers, but there’s something joking about it. 

“Second job, Bro. Your little man is all grown up, he can take care of his own shit. Everyone is so moved.” He wipes a fake tear from his eye and Dirk laughs. 

“Damn straight.” He holds his fist out and Dave bumps his knuckles with his own. “Give your friend the grand tour or someshit, I have a few more orders to finish up and then I’m done for the day.” 

“Cool.” Is all the younger blond says before grabbing up his suitcase and walking past you with a jokingly seductive curled finger. You roll your eyes and follow after him. It’s a very open floor plan so he simply points out the already obvious areas designated to the living room and kitchen. He points out the crawl space with disdain and tells you about the roof access. He shows you the bathroom, Dirk’s room(“Don’t go in there, dude, you don’t want to know what kind of shit is in there.”) and finally his own, where he dumps his suitcase on the floor and urges you to do the same. He sits on his bed, pulls up his sleeves and props himself on his palms. 

“He isn’t nearly as bad as you made him out to be.” You say, breaking the silence. He huffs a laugh and nods. 

“It’s good that you think that.” He mumbles, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

“So where am I sleeping?” You change the subject and he follows suit. 

“You can sleep on my bed, I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” That doesn’t sit right with you.

“Why don’t I sleep on the couch and you can have your bed?” He looks up at you with a smile. 

“You’re my guest dude, couldn’t let you do that.”

“I fucking live with you, douche nugget.” You say. “We can literally just share the bed, why is this even an issue.”

“It’s cool, dude, I seriously don’t mind sleeping in the living room, the bed is a little small.” You groan.

“I literally don’t give a shit, just share the bed with me.” He laughs brightly and you feel your chest get warm. 

“Fine, God, ok. Pullin’ my arm here.” He sighs and sends you a crooked smile. You give a smile of your own and look away. You’re both silent for a while, but there’s nothing awkward about it. After a few moments, you sit down next to him, mimicking his position. 

“Your brother has a lot of piercings.” You say, immediately hating yourself for how dumb you sound. 

“Yeah, before we were set with his smuppet site, he worked a bunch of different jobs. Had a piercing gig for a while.”

“Really?” You ask. You couldn’t imagine stabbing someone else, even for decorative purposes.

“Yeah,” He nods and pauses, laughs softly before continuing. “He pierced my lip for me actually, for my 16th birthday. It was some ghetto job in the bathroom, but six years later, it’s still good.” He plays with the post and looks over to you, giggling at the shock on your face. “It’s not a big deal, dude. Hell, the guy pierced his own tongue and he’s totally fine. Dude knows what he’s doing.”

“You’re both crazy.” He shoots you a smirk and shrugs. 

“Yeah, maybe.” You feel him nudge your shoulder with his own and look over to him. “Ever wanted anything pierced, Karkles? Bet he could hook you up while you’re here.” You scoff. 

“Yeah, no thanks.” 

“Alright, alright. Worth a shot.” 

Eventually he drags you out to the living room to play some knock off Call of Duty until you hear a door slam open and his brother quickly appears next to you on the couch. He’s stares you down until you get uncomfortable enough to look and now you see where Dave gets it from. 

“You like fireworks, Kitkat?” He asks, and you can feel Dave perk up on your right. 

“Yeah, I guess. Why?” He clears his throat.

“It’s Strider tradition to light fireworks on one’s birthday. And since me and Dave both missed ours, though we might as well do them now.” That’s right, Dave spent his birthday with you. You feel your face heat up dramatically when you remember that night and you almost shudder when Dave leans close in to ask about said birthday fireworks. 

The three of you make your way to the roof after picking combustibles out of the sink, cupboards, and fridge. (“Why are there fireworks in the sink?” “Why wouldn’t there be?”) 

It’s about 8 o’clock so its finally starting to settle into darkness outside. There’s a small chill but the way Dave’s face lights up under the colored lights seems to help warm you and

Stop it. 

You do not like Dave.

Dave is your best friend. And roommate. 

You like John. He has James.

Stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You got me, it's secretly a DaveKat fic. Everyone can go home.
> 
> I've gotten a few messages from potential betas/editors and have responded to some of them but haven't gotten a reply yet. 
> 
> If anyone is interested, inbox me at turntechtesticle.tumblr.com
> 
> I might even pick a second person for even more opinion/editing fun.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back in Dave's POV.

Much to your relief, Karkat and your bro get along pretty well. 

Much to your disgust, they get along a little _too_ well. 

They’re flirting and you _know_ they’re only doing it to annoy you. 

Bro will sling an arm over Karkat’s shoulders and adorn him with pet names out the asshole, which Karkat will then return in the baby-talking voice he only reserves for the cat videos he watches when it’s just the two of you home. 

It’s gross. It pisses you off. And it continues.

For an entire, goddamn week. 

Which brings you to Christmas Eve. It’s only 11pm and you’re decently plastered, the three of you waiting around the microwave with baited breath. One of the chestnuts inside pops loudly and while it sends you and Bro into a fit of giggles, Karkat jumps and screams. You laugh harder, nearly spilling your drink as you double over at the sound of his shrill squeak. The hard punch he lands on your shoulder makes you sway and when you finally right your self, the process starts all over again with another loud bang. 

The aftermath is absolutely gruesome.

“And the point of that was?” Karkat asks while watching you and your brother clean up bits of fleshy chestnut.

“Tradition.” You and Dirk say in unison before you turn to face him and share his smirk, bumping your fists together.

You move (stumble) to the sink to wash your hands and call to the dark haired boy from over your shoulder.

“Kaaaarkat! Make me another drink, yeah?” You can practically feel his grey eyes roll behind you.

“You don’t need another drink, Dave.” 

“I’m fine, dude. Barely buzzed.” You keep your voice as straight as you can manage, but when you turn around to dry your hands, he looks unimpressed. 

“Tell you what, Strider, if you can walk in a straight line across the kitchen, I will pour you more eggnog and I’ll even splash in some extra rum.” Dirk snickers knowingly from his spot at the microwave.

You recall your bro’s training, even though it’s been years, and straighten your back, keeping your eyes forward. You walk perfectly towards the shorter boy, his face flushing red as you stop right in front of him, bringing your hand up to poke him on the nose with a “boop!”. He scoffs and slaps your hand to the side, huffing as he makes his way to the fridge to take out the carton of eggnog. Once he has it, he turns around and holds out his free hand. You smile and put your hand in his, it just seems like the thing to do. You can see the way his lips twitch up before he squashes with a scowl. 

“Your _cup_ , fuck for brains.” You giggle at the nickname and retrieve your cup from the counter for him to fill. He fills about 3/4s of the cup with eggnog and splashes about 2 shots from the bottle of rum sitting on the counter. You look at him expectantly, with a smug smile on your face and he rolls his eyes and pours more of the liquor. He holds out the cup to you and you take it graciously. 

Then you proceed to down half of it, much to Karkat’s visible dismay and Bro’s audible delight. 

“If you puke, I’m not holding back your hair.” Karkat states. You pout at him.

“C’mon, KitKat, where’s your Christmas spirit?” Bro turns to face him with wiggly eyebrows.

“Yeah, Karkat, you better not let Santa see you acting like such a sourpuss.” The words that come out of your mouth are halfway to butchered but you see him give a half smile regardless. 

“You’re such a fucking child, Dave.” But there’s a laugh clinging to his voice and you smile crookedly. 

“And you,” You draw the word out as you walk to the two steps over to him and poke him in the chest, “need to drink more.” 

“I concur!” Chimes in Dirk with the slam of the microwave door. Karkat shrugs and sighs.

“Tell you what, I’ll take three shots of rum if Dave doesn’t have another drop. I don’t need him puking all over me at 3am.”

You whine. “Rum doesn’t make me puke. Tequila and whipped cream vodka make me puke.” 

Your brother has the decency to make the negotiations for you. “Make it five and you’ve got yourself a deal, KitKat.” 

“Fine, five shots-”

“And you do them all at the same time.” The elder adds.

“What?!” He looks taken aback and you giggle. 

“Karkat, I will not have another drop of alcohol tonight if you take five shots right now.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” He huffs and you give him a look before you take your cup and start downing the rest of it. 

“Fine! Fine, Jesus Christ. Someone else is setting them up for me, though.” He thinks for a minute. “And by someone else I mean Dirk, because I don’t trust Dave with glass right now.” 

“Hey!” You call out but Dirk starts setting through the cupboards for shot glasses. He snorts loudly before pulling out different colors, and giggles when he sets them up in rainbow order in front of the dark haired boy. 

“Great.” He groans, bringing his palm to his face as the shots are poured.

“Hey, I’m 90% sure everyone in this room has sucked a dick anyway.” Bro says, and claps Karkat on the back and gets a bark of harsh laughter in return. 

“I’ve never had a dick near my mouth.” 

That kind of surprises you, but you go with it. “That’s alright, dude, I’m sure Dirk has sucked enough for all three of us.” 

“Probably.” Bro shrugs. “Let me know if you want to try it sometime, yeah?” He winks in Karkat’s direction and something you can’t name drops in your gut. 

“You’ll be the first to know.” He responds with a snicker and that something gets hot. 

Why are you so mad? “Well go on, take some shots for Baby Jesus.” You slur, attempting to lighten your own mood. 

He takes the first three like a champ but you and Dirk have to cheer him through the last two. 

Eventually he get’s them all down and shakes his head. 

“That was awful.” He says, and you laugh.

“Wash it down with some eggnog.” You hand him your cup and he downs what he managed to save from you. You look at him smugly until the realization dawns on him.

“Shit, that had alcohol in it.”

“Yup, sweet dreams.” You wave to him and he rolls his eyes.

“I want to sit down.” He whines. 

So all three of you go to the living room, sitting on the couch Strider sandwich style with a drunk Karkat center after Bro pops in a movie. It’s some ancient monster movie, one of Dirk’s old favorites but you can’t focus on it because there’s your brother’s arm over Karkat’s shoulders again and you actually feel Karkat snuggle away from you and into him. 

That’s it. 

“Karkat, can I talk to you for a second?” 

Dirk snorts. You ignore him.

“Sure?” He slurs and you stand up, pulling him by the sleeve to follow you until you get to your room. 

You close the door and immediately push him against it. Your lips meet his and the gasp he takes through his nose sounds so sweet. You pull away, just barely, to speak against his lips.

“Stop.” You kiss him again, three closed mouth pecks in a row. 

“Stop what?” He asks breathlessly, voice hushed. 

But he does kiss you back. 

“The flirting with my brother, the touchy feely bullshit with him.” You kiss him again. “Stop.” You move to his neck and he whines and arches into your lips.

“Why do you care?” He practically pants. You stop and look at him, as if that will somehow tell you the right thing to tell him. 

“I don’t know.” Your voice is slow, your mouth filled with cotton. “I have no fucking idea, but I do.” 

He looks about as conflicted as you’ve ever seen him, your hands pinning his wrists beside his head, his bottom lip between his teeth. 

In this moment you know you want him. You have no idea what that means emotionally, but you want him under you, you want to taste the skin of his neck, his chest, his hips. 

You steal his lip from between his teeth and suck it into your mouth. You’re met with a whimper that has you grinding your hips down on his. He kisses back with a sense of ferocity that’s far more familiar than the gentle sliding of lips you exchanged on your birthday. Your hands drop to his face and he uses the freedom of his arms to hold your hips, pulling you closer, closer, closer. Your breath mingles with his as you pant against his mouth, grinding steadily against him and listening carefully for the small gasps and whines he dares to let loose. It takes you an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to get close and when you do, you dip down to bite his neck to somehow muffle yourself. You bring your hand down to palm at him through his jeans and he keens as he arches in to your touch, panting like he’s dying as you kiss him to keep him quiet. 

You move to lean against the door with him as your breathing slows. You can tell he wants to say something. The energy in the room is filled to burst with things that need to be talked about, things neither of you want to touch. 

Or maybe that’s just you. 

Either way, eventually he _does_ speak up.

“Dave…” 

“Let’s just go to bed, dude.” He seems to consider that a moment, face looking like your words leave a sour taste in his mouth, before he nods his head. 

“Ok.” 

So you take turns cleaning up and changing in the bathroom, passing each other silently through the hall until you both end up back in your room. 

“I can sleep on the floor if you want me to.” You offer but he scoffs and pulls the blankets back, gesturing for you to join him. 

“Get in the fucking bed, Dave.” 

“Ok.”

And it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The exchange that happens between Dave and Karkat where Karkat promises Dave another drink if he can walk in a straight line actually happened. Except I was Dave, my friend was Karkat, and my "bro's training" was marching band.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta faithfulDiscord for giving me the idea of the stife! I was seriously stuck and she saved my ass. 
> 
> Also special thanks to my other beta awholelotofnothingiv for always catching my dumb mistakes. 
> 
> Hopefully these two stay with me for the duration of the fic if not longer for other projects. 
> 
> Keep up the good work, guys!

It takes you all of 20 minutes to decide that you didn’t “cheat” on James.

James is not your boyfriend. He’s your…benefactor. You are not exclusive. 

James is not your boyfriend so you didn’t “cheat” on him. 

It still leaves a heavy feeling in your gut.

But the flirting stops. 

On Christmas morning Bro slings an arm around Karkat’s shoulders which is immediately brushed off. His shaded gaze falls to you, back to Karkat. He tries again with a joking “I thought you loved me.” The reply of “in your dreams, Strider.” has his focus back to you. Your face is hard looking back at him, but the guy fucking raised you and he catches on immediately. 

“Alright, alright.” He smirks, but puts his hands up defensively. “Who wants breakfast?” 

And it stops, just like that. 

Everything goes back to normal after that. Or so everyone seems to pretend. Karkat looks at you differently, you catch yourself staring at him, and you have a hard time ignoring the subtle lingering touches from both you and him. Dirk says nothing, but you can tell he notices the shift from the way he looks at both of you. 

The week goes on, generally uneventful: video games, movies, junk food, trying to convince Karkat to get something pierced, Karkat refusing every time, (fantasizing about Karkat with a tongue ringstopstopstop) more video games, more junk food. 

Bro wakes you up at 5am on New Year's Eve, tells you it’s snowing. Which you obviously take as a lie and an excuse to be an asshole and wake you up at 5am. You flip him off and pull your covers over your head before you feel arms slide under you and heft you into the air. You’re too tired to even react much as he shakes up Karkat with the arm not keeping you on his shoulder. You sway from your perch, barely aware of the fact that you’re being moved through the house. You hear the quiet voices of your brother and your best friend as you bounce slightly in a solid arm. 

And suddenly it's fucking cold. You whine obnoxiously and open your eyes, about to give your brother a piece of your mind for taking his joke way too far. 

But _holy shit, it’s snowing_.

You make a noise that a male your age should not be able to make and clamor off your brother’s shoulder. You’re out here in your boxers and a t-shirt but fuck it, _there is actual white snow falling from the sky in Houston, Texas and you are outside to witness it._

Karkat was born and raised in New Jersey(in fact one of the reasons he transferred to Skaia is because he hated the snow) so he stands by, sleepy and unimpressed, as you and your brother lose your shit. You look off the side of the roof to see if there’s any accumulation on the ground but, of course, there isn’t. 

But who cares, it’s snowing. 

Dirk snorts as you walk around with your arms spread out wide. 

“And to think I literally had to carry your ass out here.” He says wistfully. You flip him the bird with a smile. 

“Dude, do you have any idea how many times you did this same shit when I was a kid?” You scoff and hunch over in an unflattering impersonation. “Yo Dave, it’s fucking snowing, man. Come running out to the roof in your goddamn tighty whiteys at 4:30 am. Hurr hurr.” 

He laughs loudly. “But you came out every time dude. Not my fault you’re so gullible.” He turns in his knees in and pitches his voice up a ridiculous amount. “It’s _snowing?_ O.M.G. No wayyyy.” 

“I didn’t sound like that!” You call out.

“Am I the only one who remembers your scene phase?” He asks crossing his arms. “Was middle school so hard for your current coolness to handle that you blocked it out?” You plug your ears with your fingers and shake your head.

“We both agreed never to talk about that, asshole.” 

“Was that an agreement? I just remember you begging me to forget about those three years.”

Karkat snorts and you both turn to face him. 

“You had a three year scene phase?” 

You see a ridiculous grin grow on Bro’s face as he opens his mouth to say something. Probably something totally embarrassing. 

“Bro, I swear to god, I will fucking fight you. Keep your big mouth shut.” 

“What kind of hair did he have?” Karkat asks your brother and is rewarded with a painful sounding laugh. 

“Fuck you both, I’m going back to bed. Looks like the snow’s done anyway.” Bro looks around and takes off his hat, holding it to his chest in respect for the fallen. 

The three of you head inside. Dirk to the kitchen, no doubt for coffee, Karkat to the bathroom, and you head straight to bed where you promptly pass out after your head hit’s the pillow. 

You’re shaken awake, what seems like five minutes later, too gently for it to be your brother. 

“Mmmmrrrhmmrm?” You mumble incoherently and hear a harsh snort. 

“Wake up, Strider, it’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon.” You refuse to open your eyes but hear the smile in his voice regardless. His hand is still on your shoulder. 

Wow, that’s nice. 

“Five more minutes.” You slur and the hand shakes harder. 

“Did you not hear me?” He sounds exasperated, “3 o’clock, Dave. In the afternoon. As in five hours of daylight left.” 

“Five more minutes.” you repeat and proceed to bury even further into your covers.

“ _I_ wanted you up at noon. I gave you three fucking hours, you piss baby, wake up.” You hide your smile in your pillow and mumble some more. “Do _not_ make me get on this bed and jump on you.” You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Or maybe…” He starts, sounding dangerous. “I should just tickle you?” 

“That’s so gay, dude.” You state, muffled into your pillow. He laughs harshly. 

“But I know how much you love being tickled.” The hand on your shoulder shifts closer to your armpit and you seize up.

“Don’t fucking tickle me, Karkat.” It creeps closer and slips in between your ribs and arm and you yelp like a small dog. “Fine, you fucking asshole, I’m up, I’m up.” 

“Good, your brother is driving me up the fucking wall.” You perk up, suddenly a little protective. 

“Why, what’s he doing?” He puffs out his cheeks and sighs, gesturing aimlessly with his hands. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, I gotcha.” You sit up and rustle his hair before standing up and finding pants. You give the ones next to your closet the sniff test and nod before putting them on, turning to Karkat to see him looking over to you in horror. A smirk spreads your lips and you shrug, gesturing with a tilt of your head for him to follow you out of the room. 

“Oh what, you tattle on me, Kitkat?” Bro asks smugly from the couch, watching some bullshit with the TLC logo in the bottom corner.

"He wouldn't shut up while I was trying to watch 50 First Dates. Kept piling on bullshit commentary about how shitty Adam Sandler is."

"He is shitty," You say in unison with your brother, but save yourself before Karkat targets you with his scorn as well. "But you don't just fuck with a bro's movie time." You shake your head in condescending disappointment and cock your head up. "Roof. Now. Don't bring Cal." You grab a sword out of a fridge and start walking to the door. You freeze and turn back around. "I'm serious. If I see that fucker out there, you automatically forfeit." 

Bro groans behind you but you don't stay to see him prepare before you flesh step to the roof. 

You're only waiting for about five minutes until someone walks through the door.

"You didn't have to start a duel for my honor, dumbass." His face is flushed slightly, though it may just be from the cold wind.

"Of course I did, what kind of host would I be if-"

You cut yourself off to lift your sword above your head half a second before Dirk strikes down over you. You push back against his blade and he plants his foot, sliding his sword out from under yours before he strikes again. 

You're rusty, and stuck on the defensive. You don't get much of a chance to keep up on your training while focusing on your education and not getting kicked out of your apartment. You can tell he's going easy on you, though, staying visible through his movements instead of flash stepping around you.

After a few parries, you get back into the swing of things and strike out against him, moving to the offense. He keeps up against you expertly, obviously, and when you go to flick the tip of your sword against the hilt of his, he tightens his grip and you end up looking kind of like an idiot.

You get back at him by carefully edging your sword under the bill of his cap and shoving upwards, the gray hat flying off his head. You hear Karkat laugh off to the side and it fuels you to show off. You strike against him faster, harder, forcing him to use his full ability to keep up with you. You've only won against him a handful of times, usually involving cheating measures, but you're hopeful for how this strife turns out.

You nick him on the bicep and he gets a dangerous grin on his face before raining down on you with blows. You keep up with him well, parrying here, dodging there. You're starting to get tired though, being completely out of practice for a solid five months, so you use a burst of your remaining energy to swipe his blade to the side, going for his neck with the dull side if your sword only to find the back of his blade nestled against your adam's apple. You exhale sharply and drop your sword, putting your hands up as you set your lips in a thin line, nostrils flaring for the breath you're taking in.

You see Karkat move to get off the air conditioning unit out of the corner of your eye, dropping to the ground and golf clapping on his way over to you. Bro drops his sword as Karkat claps you on the shoulder. 

"Congrats, you lost." He says, eyebrows high. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, how would you like to sword fight your fucking sensei after half a year of no physical activity whatsoever?"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for coming to my rescue. My knight in shining armor, how ever can I thank you?"

"You can shut up and get me a glass of water."

"I can do that. C'mon, let's go inside, it's cold out here." 

You collapse on the couch and, as promised, Karkat gets you water. 

Bro orders pizza around 7 o'clock and you ending up watching one of _his_ favorites, so you help Karkat get back at him by dubbing over the fight scenes with loud pants and moans. That gets uncomfortable really quick and you have to bring your knees to your chest to hide your body's response to the noises Karkat is making. Karkat supposedly gets cold and uses the blanket from the back of the couch. You don't _think_ your bro noticed but- Aww who the fuck are you kidding he totally noticed.

The...problem resolves itself so you reach towards the table to grab another slice of pizza, cold now, and you notice the time. 

"Bro." You nudge him and when he looks to you, you point out the clock on the cable box.

"11:46" He says, matter-of-factly, and turns to you and Karkat. "It's time." 

You call out a "Hell yeah!" While Karkat looks confused. 

"What are you talking about there's still 15 minutes until 12 o'clock?" You both share a look and face him. 

"Roof." You say.

"Now." Bro follows up.

"Bring all that pent up rage I know you got boiling inside you." You finish and rustle his hair as you stand up, pulling him with you by his sleeve. 

"What now?" He asks, exasperated. 

"Tradition." You and Dirk say in unison and the three of you head up to the roof once again.

Once you get out there, Dirk sets up his phone with a timer to go off at midnight. You guys don't watch the TV to see who's performing at Time Square, you don't watch the ball drop, and you don't drink champagne.

You scream. 

You get to the edge of the roof and spread your arms out, inhaling deeply before screaming "FUUUUUUUUUCK!!" for the whole neighborhood to hear. Karkat curses under his breath and covers his ears, but he's snickering.

"What kind of bullshit tradition is this??" He asks. You shake your head.

"Getting rid of the bad vibes from the past year. It's fun, just do it." 

He laughs and rights himself, squaring his shoulders.

"SHIT!" You clap him on the back and laugh.

"There you go. Now what really pissed you off this year?" He considers that for a moment and looks at you.

"Fucking Professor Zahhak." You nod and look at him expectantly, spreading your arms to gesture out at the night sky. "FUCK PROFESSOR ZAHHAK AND HIS BULLSHIT TARDY POLICY! MY CODE WAS FUCKING IMMACULATE."

“See?" You ask, just in time to hear Dirk start screaming, actual, high pitched, horror movie victim screaming. It tapers off into howling and ends in nonsense gibberish and raspberrying. "Shit, dude, you good?" You ask in awe when he's finished. He responds with a wicked grin and a thumbs up.

The three of you keep it up. One of Karkat's screams actually earns him a scream in response that throws the three of you into a fit of laughter. Shrill beeping comes from your left and Dirk announces that it's midnight, to "pair up and smooch your bae." You and Karkat stare at each other for a moment, your eyes on his lips as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

And then Dirk swoops in and places a wet, sloppy kiss on your cheek before treating Karkat to the same thing. You trade groans of disgust before your brother wraps his arms around the both of you and brings you in for a tight hug.

"Happy New Year, guys." He says softly and Karkat wraps his arms around the both of you as well, his thumb sweeping back and forth to rub the nape of your neck.

You hesitantly join the hug and sigh through your nose, hiding your smile in Karkat’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is very hard to write Christmas/New Years while it's like 90 degrees outside.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next 2 chapters done, just waiting to hear back from my betas and they'll be up!
> 
> NOTE: I changed the "daddy"s in chapter 5 to "sir"s wanted to give some explanation for how the "daddy" stuff happened.

You welcome the new semester with about as much enthusiasm as you do going back to work. 

Which is with none at all. 

But while being at your bro’s place is cool, being back in your apartment is even better and you and Karkat celebrate with walking to your separate rooms in complete silence like the awkward turtles you are. 

James gets you to come over as soon as you tell him you’re home and makes up for time lost with roughly three hours of sex before you tap out out of pure exhaustion and make him carry you to the shower. 

You do feel guilty initially. The first morning you come back from James’s since you got home, you find yourself doing something similar to the walk of shame to your room to get ready for class. 

As soon as Karkat tells you he thinks he might be getting somewhere with John, all guilt vanishes, replaced with something bitter and vindictive that makes you feel like being childish and just yelling “Fine!” in his face while stomping your foot.

You refrain, nod your head with a thumbs up instead because you know he wants your approval. 

School keeps you busy, work keeps you busy, James keeps you busy. 

When rent comes around, James tells you not to worry about it. 

You find 600 dollars in your bank account the next day. 

He amps up the spoiling, buying you a new post(white gold) and end(garnet) for your labret, taking you shopping for clothes when he finds the time between work and work and work. 

The guy gives you an allowance. A couple hundred a month on top of paying your bills, slowly filling your wardrobe, and taking you out to dinner. 

He says he doesn’t want you to worry about money, wants you to focus on your education. 

It gets to the point where he pays you for your test scores. You jokingly pipe up:

“Would you spank me for a low grade, Daddy?”

You discover that little pet name turns him on beyond belief. 

You also discover, while he’s got you over his knee, that you enjoy calling him that.

It becomes a regular thing in bed.

You almost call your English professor this in class, only able to save yourself by cutting it short to “dad”. It’s still embarrassing as all fuck, but it could have been much worse. 

Karkat hangs out with John more and more often. Though when he lets you know before he slips out the door, you feel his eyes linger on you, see his mouth open just a fraction before closing stubbornly in a tight line.

"Goodnight." He always says instead. 

God, you _really_ hate that John kid.

You're about halfway through the semester now, mid terms start in two weeks and then it's Spring Break. James had mentioned briefly about taking you somewhere. Every time you try to bring it up he gets this cocky little grin on his face and stays quiet. 

You're sitting at home, alone and bored; Karkat fucked off to The Asshole's house about an hour ago.

Might as well go over to James's and try to whittle the destination out of him.

You find yourself in his bed, naked and under him, not 10 minutes after you walk in the door.

You groan and clutch at the silk sheets under you as he marks your neck with a harsh bite and a wet suck. The buck of your hips against his thigh is involuntary as is the soft whimper you let out when he reaches down to barely stroke you, more of just ghosting his fingers over your length.

“Please.” You whine.

“Please what, David?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks against your collarbone. God you love it when he gets smug.

“Please touch me, daddy.” So he kisses your cheek sweetly and wraps his hand around you. It’s kind of embarrassing how quickly you get close, but once your hips start shaking, he backs off. The sound that bubbles in the back of your throat is high and needy and you try to find the friction he’s not giving you against his slacks. He quickly spanks the outside of your thigh and you stop, dropping your hips immediately. Your knuckles are probably white against the grip you have on the sheets, and you can’t stop squirming as you try to keep your hips still.

He goes back to marking your neck and shoulders and when your breathing calms a bit, his hand retakes its place and strokes you slowly. His thumb swipes over the weeping tip and you choke on a gasp. The pace picks up and in moments you feel like you’re about to explode. You give one raspy moan and he stops again. His hands grasp your hips and hold them to the bed as he brings his lips to yours and swallows the half sob of desperation that pours out of you.

“Shhh…” He breathes the sound against your mouth before you tuck your head under his chin, hiding your face. “You’re okay.” You nuzzle into his neck, “Such a good boy.” and nod. “One more time, then you can have a treat.”

“Hell yes.” You try to keep your voice steady but you practically wheeze out the words and his breath rustles your hair as he laughs and brings his hand between you again. Every one of your nerves is tingling with over stimulation and you can’t stop from pathetically humping his fist. You grunt between gritted teeth and squeeze your eyes shut.

He pulls away completely and the only thing keeping you from flat out crying is knowing that you did it. You didn’t cum, so now you get a reward.

You watch intently as he gets off of the bed and strips slowly, folding his clothes and setting them on the nightstand when he’s done.

“On your stomach, David.” You nod and turn over, your chest against the bedding and your ass in the air, just how he likes it. “Good boy.” He grabs the bottle of lube from the bedside table and you feel the bed sink a bit behind you. His hands spread you open and the shock of his tongue against you rips a cry from your chest.

He laps at your entrance, first treating you with broad laves of his tongue before pointing the muscle and nudging it inside. Your moan rattles in your chest.

“Oh god. Fuck me, daddy, please.”

“Good little boys don’t use that language, David.”

“I’m sorry, just…please!” You wiggle your hips in hopes that he’ll accept your answer and just plough you into the mattress already.

“You’re quite forgiven.” He chuckles and shoves a slicked finger inside of you. You groan and you push against him.

“More, daddy, I can take it.” He immediately adds a second finger and you gasp as he thrusts them and scissors them apart. A third finger is added soon after and you almost choke on your own spit when he brushes them against your prostate.

“Are you ready for your treat, David?” You don’t trust yourself to produce words so you whimper and nod your head frantically. He shoves his fingers in roughly and you shout. “Use your words.”

“Ah! Yes, daddy!”

“Such a good boy.” He says lovingly and you nod again. Soon enough you feel his cockhead press against you. He grabs your hip and when he breaches the tight ring of muscle, you both groan. The feel of him filling you up inch by inch is something you’ll never get tired of and when he’s fully seated inside of you, you roll your hips the best you can in your position. He gets the idea and pulls out before pounding back in. You yelp and he does it again, starting up a medium pace, but making up for it with forceful thrusts.

He pushes your hips down a bit and hits your prostate dead on. You scream, rocking back on to him and scrambling for purchase between the sheets and pillows.

“Faster, daddy, please!” Both of his hands come to your hips and he pulls you harshly to him, picking up speed and forcing never-ending noises out of you. You bite the pillow under your face to try to muffle your embarrassing sounds, but his hand leaves your hip to grip your hair and pull your head back.

“None of that.” He grunts and you whine loudly. He holds you like that while he jars you forward with every snap of his hips. The sound of skin meeting skin bounces off the walls to join your cries and you’re pretty sure you sound like a Grade A porn star as you cum on the expensive silk below you. You hear James groan above you as you tighten around him and jesus, you love that sound. 

You’re insanely over sensitive so you talk him up, trying to get him to cum faster by telling him how much you love his cock, how good he treats his naughty little boy and it works. He doubles over you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder blade, his release warm and wet inside of you. He gently pulls out of you and collapses to your side, catching his breath before pulling you to his chest.

You trace patterns in his chest hair and the two of you settle into a comfortable silence.

“Sooo…” You start and he hums in ascension, turning to you to kiss the top of your head. “Do I get to know where you’re whisking me away to in two weeks?”

“I was thinking Italy.” You shoot up to rest on your elbows and look down at him with a furrowed brow. He smirks back up at you.

“Italy?” You ask incredulously. “I thought you meant like Time Square or some shit.” He matches your position and shrugs smugly. 

“If you’d rather go to Time Square-”

“No. No, Italy is fine.” You cut him off quickly and remember something from your pointless web surfing. “Hey, can we go to Palermo? There’s these catacombs there. They say there’s the body of a girl down there who’s been dead for 90 years but still looks like she’s just sleeping.” 

“I was thinking wine and dinner…” He starts and you puff out your bottom lip and make your eyes as big and watery as you can make them. “But I suppose we’ll have time within the week to visit the catacombs.” He finishes quickly and you hiss out a breath and pump your fist, earning you a laugh. 

Of course, you’re a dumbass and don’t tell Karkat you’ll be out of the country for a week until four days before you’re scheduled to fly out. 

He gets pissy, and you can’t really blame him, but he quickly forgives you when you set up a bro night the night before your flight and foot the bill on the pizza and drinks. He gets a little touchy, sitting beside you and cuddling in to your side a bit.

Ok, you do start to feel bad. You’re leaving tomorrow to go see fucking Italy while he’s stuck at home with no roommate and nothing to do. Eventually he wheedles you into a position where your arm is over his shoulders and his head is tucked into your neck. You turn to speak into his hair while he stares forward at movie playing on the TV. 

“Hey, Karkles, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it, have fun.” He says softly and you can’t help but feel he’s pouting. 

“No really, I’m sorry, here I am, fucking off out of the country and you’ll be home alone.”

“I still have John.” He says and you internally wince. “Plus he invited me to some party at his dad’s house, so it’s not like I won’t have some fun of my own.” 

That sits with you wrong, heavy and uncomfortable in your gut, but you nod and rest your cheek on the top of his head.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat's POV again.

What a pretentious asshole. Stealing your painstakingly toasted breakfast, right out of your goddamn hands, and fucking off to Italy for a goddamn week?

And now what the fuck are you supposed to do? Wait anxiously alone in your shitty apartment for a party hosted by none other than the bucktooth wonder that makes your heart pound to the beat of “notice me, senpai!!”?

Bullshit.

But here you are, doing that exact thing like the socially inept piece of shit you are. You roll your eyes as hard as you can. 

“Hope Dave’s having a good time.” You mutter bitterly, following the circular shape of the rug with your feet once, twice, a third time around.

No, you are not going to think about Dave. You’re going to ignore that fucker the entire time he’s gone, and then you’re going to show him how cool you were without him there.

You stop your pacing for a second to get a better look at the tiny clock on the microwave. You scowl at the numbers. 7:23pm. Fuck.

You find yourself in a moment of weakness as you text John to ask if he needs help setting up. It takes him less than a minute to respond and of course, said reply is nauseatingly adorable.

“that’d be great! :B”

Fuck him.

He sends you the address of his dad’s place and you’re out the door. The house is a good twenty minutes off campus and when you get there, you find that the correct word is not “house”, but something the lines of “goddamn mansion”. (Of course, you’re used to the apartment you share with Dave and, before that, a shoddy townhouse.)

Not going to think about him.

You hesitate before knocking, briefly considering the pros and cons of getting back in your car, driving home, and drowning yourself in the kitchen sink.

_GROW THE FUCK UP._

You sneer at your inner voice and knock on the door. Shuffling noises come from inside, and then a loud crash. Three seconds later, John opens the door all bright blue with imperfect teeth showing generously through his grin. He looks a little out of breath.

“Hi, Karkat!”

“Uh, hey.” You pause, looking at him expectantly. God, what a cute little moron. You stand there for a minute before he gets his bearings and invites you in. Holy shit, it looks even bigger inside.

“So, uh,” He starts, laughs in a way that makes your chest tight. “it’s a good thing you came because I don’t think I could get this all done by myself.”

It looks like he’s already started, but there are bags and boxes everywhere that you assume need to be unpacked. There’s a DJ setup halfway constructed in the corner and it makes you think of Dave. You wonder what he’s getting himself into. Or, from the sounds of it, what he’s getting into himself. 

What the fuck happened to _not_ thinking about the guy? That was a thing, remember?

John says he’ll finish the setup if you set out all the food and soda in the kitchen. He points to the saloon doors that you assume lead to where you‘re needed. Wow, context clues. Look at that, you were right. 

When your respective duties are completed, you team up to rearrange the furniture in a way that “will make room for everyone to squeeze in”. 

The room is quite large. Just how many people are fucking coming?? You must have said it aloud because he looks around sheepishly and bites his lip. 

“Uhm, a lot.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, like a lot a lot.” 

Apparently enough to where he doesn’t have a number. He’s about to say something when the doorbell rings. 

“Hell yes, those are the drinks.”

You chill where you are while he answers the door. Quiet whooping can be heard except for one voice that is way too excited. He ushers in three people, two guys with kegs and an oddly familiar looking girl with a huge cardboard box. 

“Hey Karkat, can you help Jade with those?” Jade is most definitely a girl’s name so you hold the door open for this girl who does not look like someone who would be accompanying two guys with kegs. She sets the box heavily on the counter with a huffing breath. Was it really that heavy? 

Turns out yeah, boxes packed full of handles of hard liquor tend to be pretty heavy and honestly, once they’re all set out, you’re not sure how they even all fit in there in the first place. Most of it is flavorless vodka with a few bottles of tequila and rum thrown in. 

Good lord what have you gotten yourself into? You make a face at the ridiculous amount of alcohol stretched out in front of you. Jade laughs.

“C’mon, Karkat, it’s not gonna kill you.” She knows your name.

“Uh.” Then it strikes you why this girl is so familiar, she’s one of Dave’s friends. He talks about her all the time.

This is the girl who suggested that he get a sugar daddy. Awesome.

At least you (somewhat) know more than one person here. Still, you’re anxious.

Ok, so maybe you’ve never been to a party-party before. So you’re kind of introverted. You get drunk with Dave at the apartment, sure, but parties were always his thing. You would wish him luck on Saturday night for getting his dick wet and he’d sarcastically insist that you have fun studying for the finals he knew were that following Monday. 

But here you are, about to get knackered right the fuck off your horse, apparently, with a houseful of strangers. You guess you’re pretty ok with that considering you have a full week off of classes.

You sigh and shake your head, much to Jade’s amusement, and leave the kitchen. John is picking through his wallet and talking excitedly with Keg Guy #1. He pulls a few bills out and Keg Guy #1 mumbles something that has John laughing colorfully and smacking him on the shoulder. 

“People are coming soon, man, get the fuck out of here.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Be back in 20.”

Four of you are left in the living room. “Well, Jade, Brandon-” Oh, that’s his name, “Karkat. Shots?”

A chorus of agreement sounds, including yours, and you head to the kitchen to pick your drinks. The shot glasses are picked out by the host himself and he rewards you with bright pink glass with the words “WARNING: CRAZY BITCH” lovingly printed on the front. He snickers when you roll your eyes and gives the others theirs as well. Jade laughs out loud at the one that is handed to Brandon. He holds the “I swallow.” glass proudly and makes a comment on how they almost match, hers saying “Suck my dick.”

John picks out his own as well, a simple hazard symbol, before pouring every glass to the brim with vodka. There’s a brief, nonsensical toast and everybody cheers. You down it quickly and allow the burn into your throat. At the same time you hear sharp taps on the counter. Jade swallows and giggles while pointing at you. 

“What?” Did you spill?

“Gotta take another, Karkat. You didn’t tap your shot.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” John laughs at you and Brandon takes up the duty of refilling your shot glass.

“You have to tap your shot glass on the table before you take it.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?” He looks like he’s going to have some smart ass reply but then his smile falls and he grows quiet. 

“I have no idea, actually.”

“Then why the fuck is it a thing?” He shooshes you, index finger to your lips and everything. You hope your blush doesn’t look as obvious as it feels. 

“Stop whining.” He says. “Just do it.” 

Brandon holds your glass out to you and you snatch it away, trying not to slam it on the table before reliving the terrible burn of the first one. 

It occurs to you, a little belatedly, that you haven’t eaten dinner yet. You had half a box of Pop Tarts for lunch though, so you should be fine, right?

John pats you on the shoulder for a job well done or someshit and you sway a little.

Welp, this should be interesting. 

__________

 

You’re 4 shots in and working on a tequila and sprite, trying to find a quiet spot to sit down. John fucked off a little while ago, saying he’d find you in a bit. 

Find you he does, about fifteen minutes later, gripping your shoulders and steering you back to the kitchen. He’s giggling the entire time and when he pours your fifth shot of the night, it spills all over his hand and you fight the heavy heat in your face as he proceeds to lick the liquor off of his fingers before handing you the glass. You wait before he has a full glass in hand before tapping your shot to the counter and downing it. The sting doesn’t even bother you any more, but he still shakes his head in a shudder, lopsided grin pointed at you as he licks his lips. 

The grip you have on your shot glass starts to hurt. 

“C’mon, let’s go back to the living room.” He slurs and grabs your shoulders again, steering you once more, like you don’t know where the living room is. Like you’re that much of a drunken shit. You trip over your own feet and surrender to the laughter bursting in your chest. He does this thing where he hugs you around your shoulders and laughs softly in your ear and wow does that shut you up. 

You take a gulp of your drink and thank fuck that it’s so dark in here. He almost looks like he’s thinking about dancing before thinking better of it. Your eyes fall on a familiar pair and you snort. 

“Holy shit.” 

John’s attention snap to you and he acts out looking far and wide to find what you saw. He see’s it and pitches a sharp laugh. 

“At least someone’s getting some tonight.” and honestly, with the way Brandon and Jade are going at each other in the corner, you’d be surprised if the “getting some” didn’t happen on couch. 

You honestly have no idea what possessed you to grab John’s collar and slam your lips to his. You really don’t. Maybe the drinks, maybe the longing look he gave the pair finally sent you over the edge. Maybe it’s the fact that Dave is across the globe in fucking _Italy_ with his goddamn lover or whatever the fuck. All you know is that you did it and he tastes like vodka and smoke and you’re about to rip away in shame before he throws his arms around your neck and bites your lower lip. 

The pathetic whine you let out when his tongue slides over yours is one of complete and utter relief and you slide your fist from his chest to his sides, gripping at his shirt. He pulls away and for some reason, you’re still waiting to hear his shock and disgust with you. You brace yourself, but all you get from him is a blissed out, crooked smile, and a finger pointing towards the ceiling before he’s leading you again, hand in hand this time. 

You’re both pretty drunk at this point, and climbing the stairs induces lots of tripping and laughing that some how doesn’t ruin the mood by the time you reach the first door. He peeks inside the room and sighs in relief before winking at you and pulling you inside. There’s a soft green glow throughout the room that you notice is coming from a nightlight about the same time as when he pushes you onto his twin sized mattress. It takes you a moment to realize that, right, this is his childhood bedroom. The thought is wiped from memory when he straddles your lap and dips down to kiss you, pinning your wrists beside your head. You can feel his hard on through his cargo shorts and your jeans and wow, he’s hard. 

To be honest, you’re kind of surprised he even got it up. 

To be honest, you’re surprised that *you* even got it up. 

He grinds against you as he bites your bottom lip roughly and your eyelids flutter shut and a throaty groan spills out of you. He does it again and fuck he’s so languid. 

It’s not hard to flip him and pin him under you. If the shuddery gasp is anything to go by, he doesn’t seem to mind. You immediately go for his neck, relishing in the whine he gives you when you suck a dark spot just under his jaw. You rut against him and he pathetically bucks back up into you. It’s such a teasing sensation. 

Can you take off his pants? Is that a thing you can do? 

He’s laughing and fuck, guess you’re talking out loud again. 

“Yes, Karkat, you can take off my pants.”

So you do, swipe down his khaki shorts and lame Ghost Busters underwear in one go and he fidgets as you take a moment to appreciate the view. 

“Your turn.” He says, and hey, you guess it’s only fair. 

You shimmy your jeans to mid thigh, and he seems to really appreciate the fact that you're going commando. Like a lot. 

He grabs your collar again and pulls you back down to him, grabbing both of your dicks in his left hand and pumping. You gasp and go back to ravaging him, his lips are going to be bruised tomorrow, and the thought of the marks on his neck being shown in public makes you shudder. 

He’s openly moaning and you have to constantly remind him that there are, in fact, people downstairs. 

He huffs a laugh and tells you to shut up and kiss him more. 

Can’t argue with that. 

Your breathing gets heavy and his breathless sounds get whiney.

“Fff-uck” He gasps out and you feel him cum against your stomach. You follow soon after, with a bite to his shoulder that quite possibly broke skin. 

The familiar sensation of afterglow while drunk floods through you.(Do _NOT _think of him.)Your head is swimming and buzzing in the most pleasant way and you just kind of lay there while john grabs tissues off of his night stand and goes about cleaning himself up, tossing you a few which you slur your thanks to him for.__

__You’re tired, but you know you won’t be able to sleep._ _

__He still looks pretty damn awake, if not entirely alert._ _

__“You…wanna just chill up here?”_ _

__He asks almost shyly and you look at him._ _

__“I mean, I have some games and stuff. Or we could watch a movie.”_ _

__“Judging by your walls, your taste in movies sucks ass, Egbert.”_ _

__He huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes._ _

__“Yeah, well games are still a thing.” You look at him._ _

__“Got any board games? I don’t think I can look at a screen right now.”_ _

__His face lights up and you end up playing two-man Cards Against Humanity. It doesn’t work well so you end up just putting words and phrases together._ _

__You ended up throwing up, and you hate yourself when you do. John’s cool about it though, hurries you to the bathroom and rubs your back the entire time._ _

__Around 4am, he actually tells you to lay down in his bed and try to sleep while he ushers people out of the house._ _

__You pass out almost immediately._ _

____________ _

__

__Fuck mornings, honestly. Fuck the Sun, fuck the noisy-ass birds, fuck the taste in your mouth, and most certainly, fuck the feeling of dread pooled in your stomach when you realize you were just some one night stand._ _

__You hear music and rustling coming from downstairs._ _

__You investigate to find John with an industrial trash bag and Jade passed out on the couch as well as several other strangers on the floor and various surfaces._ _

__John looks over at you sheepishly. Great, he’s ashamed._ _

__“Uh, hey, Karkat.” Fuck, fuck, fuck not this awkward morning after bullshit._ _

__“Need help?” Is all you ask, and he gives you a grateful nod._ _

__You pick up and open your own trash bag and throw some estranged solo cups inside. Clean up is silent and he keeps looking over at you, looking away when you catch his gaze._ _

__During the half hour it takes you to finish cleaning the house, the dead on the floor slowly awaken and shuffle out the door, Jade getting up cheerily and hugging both you and John on her way out._ _

__His looks start to linger and you’re getting annoyed._ _

__“What?” You ask him._ _

__“I was just…uhm…can we…talk? Y’know, about last night?” And here comes the rejection speech. You can feel the words stabbing you in the throat all ready. You swear to fucking god if he asks to ‘still be friends’, you’ll shit yourself. “It’s just, I was thinking and…”_ _

__“Egbert, spit it out, I can handle it.” He huffs a sigh and closes his eyes, as if preparing himself for breaking your heart._ _

__“Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”_ _

__Wait._ _

___What?_ _ _

__“Wha-” You look at him incredulously._ _

__“Oh god, you weren’t-??” His face falls in his hands and he shakes his head. “Fuck, I am an idiot. Never mind.”_ _

__“No, not never mind. Did you just ask me to go out with you?”_ _

__He peeks up between his fingers and nods._ _

__You laugh the loudest you think you ever have._ _

__“Holy fuck, thank god.”_ _

__His turn to be confused._ _

__“Wha-”_ _

__“Yes, you flaming fucking dork, I would love to be your boyfriend.”_ _

__The smile on his face is worth every ounce of anxiety that led up to this._ _

__“You wanna…come over to my place?” You ask him._ _

__He laughs._ _

_______________________ _

__He actually ends up spending a few nights at your place._ _

__You’re watching a movie, a real movie, on your laptop with his head in your lap. He seems bored, to be honest, and keeps nuzzling his head into your dick like he’s trying to get you worked up without you realizing what he’s doing._ _

__It’s working, and he “subtly” turns over on his stomach and looks up at you as he flat out mouths your dick through your boxers. Your breath catches but you give no other indication that you’ve even noticed. He licks a stripe up the length and you have to concentrate to keep your eyes from closing._ _

__Apparently, he takes this as a sign that he needs to try harder so, of course, he unbuttons the front of your shorts and slides out your half hard dick._ _

__Hey, guess you’re getting your first blowjob._ _

__His tongue travels up the side and he sucks on the head. You can feel your nostrils flare as your breath shakes in your chest. He’s still looking up at you. You flick your eyes down in a moment of weakness and cave completely at the sight. Your eyes flutter closed and you thread your fingers through his thick brown hair, moaning softly as he takes you in his mouth. He bobs his head and strokes you with his left hand, the angle awkward but he pulls it off well._ _

__His teeth scrape you a few times, but overall he’s surprisingly good at it. He moans around you and you shudder and look towards him. The sight of him touching himself brings you over the edge embarrassingly quick and he moans loudly as you finish down his throat. He pops off your dick, panting, and you push him so he’s on his back and finish him off with your hand._ _

__“Shower?”_ _

__He asks mischievously._ _

__“Shower.”_ _

__Said shower is not at all as sexy as you pictured it. Mostly just fumbling in the small tub trying to just wash each other and get the fuck out and back to cuddling._ _

__When he goes to get redressed, he makes a sound of distress when he finds that there’s cum on his shirt. You lend him one of yours._ _

__He gets a text and kind of freaks the fuck out._ _

__Apparently his dad is coming home early from wherever the fuck he went._ _

__“I totally forgot to put away the booze.” He panics, grabbing his hair a bit. “I’m really sorry, Karkat, but I gotta go, I’ll text you later ok?” and he’s out._ _

__Somewhat dejected(for whatever dumbass reason your brain decides to come up with today) you just kind of keep watching the movie._ _

__And then another._ _

__And another._ _

__The door is open and hey, Dave’s home. Early. Weird._ _

__You ignore him and keep watching your movie._ _

__He seems to get the message and walks by, with a small wave, to the bathroom._ _

__You don’t miss the marks on his neck and you certainly don’t miss the dark pit that opens up at the sight of them._ _

__You keep watching your movie._ _

__He pops out of the bathroom only a few minutes after he went in._ _

__He’s holding Johns shirt._ _

__You feel your face heat up to roughly the same temperature of the sun._ _

__You keep watching your movie._ _

__“Hey, Karkles. Any chance you know who this belongs to?” You ignore him. “Karkat. Bro. Broseph Vantas. Crabdip. KitKat. Shouty Mc-”_ _

__“It’s Egbert’s, ok??” You hiss at him and his face looks as openly shocked as you’ve ever seen it._ _

__“Wait, what?”_ _

__“Look dude, I know you don’t like John, but I fucking do and it’s my apartment too. I can have guests over whenever I damn well please and it’s not fair that I just sit at home alone while you’re off in fucking Italy-”_ _

__“No, you didn’t call him John. You called him “Egbert”.”_ _

__“Yes, you dense fuck. That’s his name: John Egbert.”_ _

__He takes a step back like you physically punched him in the chest._ _

__“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He pauses. “I’m fucking his dad.” You freeze, unable to say anything. “Jesus Assfucking Christ, I’m fucking that asshole’s dad! Like for money and shit!” You feel your jaw drop open._ _

__Holy shit this cannot be happening._ _

__He cracks up a bit before completely doubling over, laughing hysterically. He sounds like he finally lost it._ _

__“Holy shit.” He whines, wiping a tear from his eye._ _


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters left folks!!

John's over, much to your expressed disagreement. You can't fucking look at him, so you decide to lock yourself in your room as soon as Karkat hesitantly warns you. He rolls his eyes and slumps his shoulders in a sigh when you tell him your nifty little solution and you promptly fuck off to your corner of the apartment.

You can hear laughing and coughing from the living room and, with an all too familiar smell, it's horrifically obvious what they're getting up to.

You're kind of ticked to be honest. When you first met Karkat, you'd offered several times to smoke him out only to have him scoff in your face and roll his eyes. After a while you just kind of stopped doing it in the apartment when he was home, because he's your bro and you wanted him to be comfortable.

And here he is getting high in your living room with pretty much your arch fucking nemesis.

Something catches your attention from their muffled conversation. Something that definitely sounds like your name. Well, if they're talking about you, you're allowed to eavesdrop right?

You get up and quietly walk over to your door to get a better listen, pressing your ear against the wood. 

"Dude, no, if you want to so bad, you go ask him."

"He hates my guts, he'll listen to you."

"That-"

"Karkat. Please."

You hear that groan that you know so well, the one he lets out when you've won the argument over who does dishes or takes out the trash.

The soft padding of footsteps comes towards your door and you scuttle back over to your bed and attempt to look as natural as possible. You pull your computer into your lap and not 2 seconds later, your door opens. You look at Karkat expectantly as he pinches the bridge of his nose and gestures you over.

"What?" You barely manage to keep the snapping out of your voice and the look he gives you is absolutely pained.

"Come out here and hang out with us."

"Hah, that's great."

"Dave." His tone implies a heavy finality that would usually have you jumping to his whim out of pure fear for consequences, but you're determined to fight him about this.

"Karkat, really. What are we gonna do? Get high and make up? Bro cuddle our way to peace and understanding?" You lower your voice and look at him pointedly. "Seriously, dude, do you have any idea how fucked this situation is?"

"I am well a-fucking-ware, but like it or not it is happening and we'll make the best of it." He looks tired past the fog you know is there behind the high. "Seriously, c'mon."

You glare at him and he matches you dead on.

You crack first, though he sways a bit and it kills his intensity.

"Fucking...fine. Ok. Whatever." You get up and pad over to him, royally gesturing him out of your room. "After you, dude."

John looks sheepish when you see him on your couch. You give a quirk of the chin in reluctant greeting and he actually waves at you.

"Hey, Dave." You walk past the couch and to the shitty arm chair as Karkat sits between you two. John gives a nervous smile and hands you...a really beautiful piece actually. The bong is about a foot long, green and blue swirled glass shaped into a classic bubble bottom. You still look at it suspiciously for a moment before taking it and catching the lighter that Karkat tosses you.

It's stupid, but you're self-conscious as you take your hit. While you've at least smoked around Karkat, though not with him, you haven't with John and you feel like you have something to prove.

Which is dumb.

John urges you to take another and as the smoke leaves your lungs, it takes some of the bitter resentment with it. Karkat looks at you expectantly and you sigh.

"Thanks for the hospitality, dude." You give John a tight, small smile and he nods with a grin spreading his features.

"No problem. You guys wanna watch a movie or something?" Karkat groans.

"Say no."

You actually laugh a bit, and John's face genuinely lights up.

"What movies do you like, Egbert?" And fuck, you almost forgot that you've sucked off this guy's dad more times than you can count.

"Only the best."

"He's hot for Nicolas Cage."

"Am not! He's just a really good actor!"

You literally snort. "Ever seen Vampire's Kiss?"

"Ok, so that _one_ movie was really bad..."

"Face/Off?"

"That-"

"Don't try to defend yourself, just play dead." Karkat interjects and you smirk at him as John flounders for his dignity. "Sorry, John, but your movies are shit."

"Yours aren't much better, dude." You comment offhand and his reply is a silent middle finger.

"Can we all agree on Mario Kart?"

"Yes." "Hell fuckin' yeah." You and John soundoff your agreement simultaneously and you grunt as you stand up to set up the system and get everyone controllers.

Because you're a fucking gentleman.

You have to sit on the couch on the other side of John, after furiously fending off the urge to sit between the two, because the controller won't reach the chair. From here you can actually see him and your gut twists.

You're a fucking dumbass honestly. It took you way too long to figure out he and James are related. The glaringly obvious red flags aside (COUGH-EXACT-FUCKING-SAME-HAIR-AND-EYES-COUGH), you can see it in the curve of the bridge of his nose, the strong angle of his jaw. You sigh and turn your eyes back to the screen.

You win the first race, obviously, and before race two starts, you take a smoke break. You've got the giggles something fierce immediately after you pick your character (what the fuck is Waluigi??), and it drags you back to 6th place, while CPU baby Mario takes first. Karkat actually looks concerned and if you were any more sober, you'd be embarrassed enough to shoot yourself.

You regain composure for race three and return to your rightful place as King of Videogames Forever. John actually sneaks up on you a few times and he's fucking brutal with that blue shell. Karkat grumbles the entire time as he trucks along in the range of 5th-7th place.

You switch over to Super Smash Bros after another couple rounds with the bong and John amazes both you and Karkat as he proceeds to slaughter both of you in all four rounds that you can stand to play with him.

Kid knows how to trash-talk.

You don't let a lot of stuff get to you but when you lose your last life in round four and he flashes you that insufferable fucking smile and a "Jesus, Dave, that was quick." you lose it a bit.

"Yeah, well guess what? Your dad eats ass like a champ."

Holy fuck you can't believe you just said that.

From the looks of it, neither can Karkat who gasps and physically covers his mouth with his hands. The color drains from your face.

John laughs and puts his hands up defensively.

He thinks you're joking.

He has no reason to think that you even know his dad.

"Wow, Dave, no need to get so defensive. Just git gud." He snorts and playfully knocks your shoulder. You do your best to play it off.

"Try to beat me with anybody but fucking Pit and see how it goes."

You can see Karkat literally deflate as he picks up his controller again and picks his character for round five.

________________________

 

John leaves a few hours later, after convincing Karkat that he can drive just fine, and takes his bong and peppy demeanor with him.

What he leaves behind is just about the most uncomfortable air you've ever had to sift through. 

It's absolutely immediate. As soon as Karkat shuts the door behind his boyfriend, it settles like the thick pop of a sound proof room. He looks over to you like he expects you to freak out and he's bracing himself to calm you down.

You don't freak out, obviously, because freaking out is something you very much pride yourself on not doing.

You do sigh, pushing your shades to the top of your head to massage your temples before laughing weakly. Karkat freezes at the sound.

"Fuck."

Your roommate still looks hella nervous so you try to pack a little humor in. 

"Well, hey, if me and James get married, I'll pretty much be your mother-in-law." He growls and rolls his eyes, storming off to his room.

So apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Fuck it, you're tired of trying to please everyone.

And of course as soon as that thought ran it's course you hear a ping from your phone. 

James wants you to come over.

God, how could you even look at him right now, you just smoked like a fucking gram of weed between you, his fucking SON and said son's boyfriend who doubles as your roommate(who you've made out with on numerous occasions and even gone farther with while in James's...care.)

This is so unbelievably fucked.

But rent _is_ coming up and, honestly, if you can just shut off your brain, it might even be fun.

You text him back saying you'll be there in half an hour.

_______

 

What a fucking idiot you are to ever think you could "just shut off your brain".

You went, you fucked, and you played along in the role of "absolutely nothing is wrong". 

And here you are with a black pit the size of a bowling ball in your gut. You look over James's shoulder to the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. 2:24 A.M. Great.

Guess you'll go get something to drink.

When you start to sit up, he stirs, mumbles incoherently. 

"Shhh," You whisper, leaning down to kiss the side of his head, "just going to get some water." He nods and turns over.

You make your way out of bed and close the bedroom door behind you before turning on the flashlight on your phone and finding your way downstairs.

Water sounds nice, booze sounds better though, so you pour yourself a fucking cup of wine as you wander around the house aimlessly, just needing something to do.

You walk out into the living room, making your way slowly, hesitantly, to the fireplace. Your eye stays on the picture frames that sit there, one on either side of an urn, carefully overturned. 

And you knew they were there, you guess you just never bothered to see what what he was hiding. Maybe even didn't want to know. 

Of course when you turn them up you see that brown mop and "would be cute if he weren't 21" overbite. The black ball in your gut drops. 

Which is dumb, because you already knew one hundred percent that John was his kid, it's been established and you're dealing with it (trying to) but seeing him in this context does something weird. It solidifies the fact that much more. It unnerves you drastically. You down your cup on the way to the kitchen and pour yourself another.

At 3:54 you make your way back upstairs, almost reluctant, tucking yourself against James's bare back. You let the even sound of him breathing lull you, probably with the help of the wine, into a deep sleep.

You dream of Christmas Eve and wake up to an empty bed and the smell of bacon. 

God, you are such a shit head.

Put your big boy shorts on, Strider, and face the fucking day. There's a small reassuring voice that tells you 'it's only awkward if you make it that way'. 

Who the fuck even said that, because it's obviously bullshit. Still, you pull on your shirt and your shades and force a deep breath and a smirk. 

You push through the saloon style doors and wrap your arms around his middle from where he's standing at the oven. You don't _want_ it to be weird. You _like_ James. He hums and you can feel the smile in the tune. It spreads a weak one of your own as you kiss his shoulder blade through the stiff cotton of his shirt.

"Pancakes?" Your question is half muffled against his back but he somehow understands you anyway.

"Yessir, would you like yours Mickey Mouse shaped?" You bite the spot you just kissed and he chuckles.

"Need help?" 

"No, don't worry about it. Can't imagine you're feeling great after your midnight snack, there." And you physically wince.

God, you are _such a shit head_.

He laughs, "It's fine, David, I know you were having a hard time sleeping. Just..." He slides the pancake in the pan to a plate and gently shifts until you're hanging on to his front instead, tucking his fingers under your chin to look at him. "Is this something I need to be worried about?"

You give a tight smile and correct yourself to look more natural. 

"Nah, daddio, everything's cool." His lips twitch at your phrasing but it's still a worried expression. He sighs and tips your glasses up to the top of your head, catching your gaze and locking it in place with the sort of authority you're used to from him.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely." He seems to accept your answer because he leans down to kiss you and smacks your ass before gently pushing you towards the table.

 

You're deep in thought throughout breakfast. You try to keep up with what James is saying so he doesn't notice, but your brain is distracted. You thank him for the evening and breakfast before making your way out the door to head back to your apartment.

Maybe you can make this work. James obviously likes you, and as much as you dislike John, Karkat seems to be happy with him. As much as that growing part of you that wants Karkat to yourself wants to disagree, they even seem to be good for eachother. You hate seeing them together, but maybe you're the problem. You just need to stop being greedy and take your lot with James.

You take a deep breath and focus on the road.

Yeah, maybe you can make this work.

You notice that saying that to yourself doesn't make you feel better, but when you open the door to your apartment and see John and Karkat cuddling on the couch, you keep a stiff upper lip and fucking pretend it does. 

Just like you pretend it doesn't fucking kill you to see Karkat so goddamn happy with the guy he knows you can't stand.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's Day!

Three weeks until Summer. Three weeks until school's out. 

Where the fuck did the time go? It feels like yesterday that you and Karkat were hefting cardboard boxes up two flights of stairs, both buzzing with excitement for the new place. 

How did everything get so fucked in a matter of...holy shit has it seriously been over half a year? 

That...kind of floors you a bit.

Next year will be your and Karkat's senior year.

And then what?

You never really thought too far into the future, figuring that if you just get what's in front of you sorted out, the rest will kind of just come to you. 

Will you keep living together? Will you stick with James? Will John finally fuck off to his own personal corner of hell?

Honestly, who knows?

________

 

Karkat spends a lot of time at John's lately. Part of you thinks (hopes) that it's because he saw how much it bothered you and hated watching you hurt.

More realistically, it's because whenever John is over you mercilessly bother them like the jealous two year old you are, making sure the two were never alone for long enough for "something sinful" to happen under your roof.

When it's just you and Karkat home, you tend to avoid each other. 

Every once in a while, you'll both be stuck in the kitchen or living room and the air is so thick that you almost choke on it. 

There's far too much that needs to be said, far too little that can be without upsetting whatever bullshit balance you've (he's) achieved. 

Couldn't do that.

________

 

You've been distant with James lately. You try to be into it, you try to focus on the feeling of his hands, his mouth, his cock, but there's this little fly in the back of your brain buzzing around and reminding you "He's John's dad!"

He notices the fog. Asks if there's anything he can do. You shrug and kiss him and hide your face in his chest. 

You can't help the feeling that something bad is going to happen.

_______

 

On your last day of school, the air is sweet with late spring and you find yourself in an outrageously good mood. Karkat still has his exam until about 7 o'clock, so you chill at home until you get a text from James.

He has a surprise for you apparently.

He tells you to dress nicely.

_______

The Surprise is dinner. A very nice dinner in a very nice restaurant, that you have to drive almost an hour to get to. 

Of course, he lets you play your music in the car ride over, not even wincing when Ke$ha is the first artist to play. Halfway through the song, you notice his finger tapping on the steering wheel to the beat and you laugh.

When you arrive, the valet takes his car and he leads you inside by the arm. 

The dining room is gorgeous, crystal chandeliers dripping from deep maroon ceilings to match with glass tables and mahogany floors and chairs.

You play footsie under the table while you wait for drinks and appetizers and James makes sure you like the wine before buying the bottle. 

You talk about work and exams and having it just like old times brings something warm to settle in your chest. 

"Hey, uh." You start, without really meaning to. James pauses eating and looks at you with rapt attention. You clear your throat. "I just... I just wanted to apologize for not really being all there lately. I've had a lot on my mind, but I didn't mean to make it seem like I'm not into it or anything, y'know?"

He looks surprised, then smiles warmly.

"There's no need to apologize Dave. I know how stressful school can be near the end of the year, and going into your last year of college can be overwhelming." He nudges your ankle with the toe of his shoe and you smile.

While that's not at all what's been on your mind, he's just so sweet that you go with it.

It's not like you can really tell him what's actually going on anyway.

So you'll just pretend for now that "wow school is hard work" and that's all there is to the situation.

By the time you're finished with your meals, you've got a bit of a buzz going and you lean on James while you wait for the valet. 

Traffic is light coming home and you get home by about the time the sun starts setting.

He insists you come in and have a glass of water, that you should sleep over if you can't drive.

You tell him you wouldn't mind staying the night, but that it's only 9 o'clock so you won't be doing much sleeping.

He looks at you hungrily and you grab his lapels and pull him forward to bite at his lips. His hands come to your ass and you moan as he grips the flesh before he hoists you up and has you wrap your legs around his waist. He kisses you all the way to his room, your shades abandoned on the couch on his way up.

You're thrust against the bed before he undresses you quickly, having your jacket off and shirt unbuttoned by the time you have his tie loosened. You feel him grind against your lap and you gasp as you push his jacket down and lift his tie over his head, letting both fall to the floor. 

God, you haven't been this into it in weeks.

You can feel his hands trail up your sides, his teeth scrape against your collarbone and the only thing on your mind is "more, more, more".

He pushes you back to lay against the pillows and he jerks your hips in an attempt to get your trousers off, face lighting up when he sees you went commando. He sucks on the head of your dick as he helps you fully out of your pants, knocking your shoes to the floor in the process. You gasp and keen as he blows you and when he pulls a small bottle of lube out of his pocket, you whimper and grip the headboard in anticipation.

It doesn't take long to stretch you and when he flips you on your stomach, you're buzzing before you feel his cockhead against you. You push against him and when you feel him slip inside, you gasp. 

"Don't go slow, Daddy." You tell him and you feel him bend over to kiss your shoulder and nod. 

He pulls out to the head and immediately starts a brutal pace, your voice cracking as he hits your prostate dead on. You manage to get on your knees with your arms wrapped around his neck from behind, having him bite and mark your shoulders. You're already close but he slows down to a near stop.

"Why'd you stop?" You whine, and he shushes you gently.

"Did you hear that?" He asks, whispers. 

Much to your dismay he stops fully, the room silent except your heavy breathing.

"I don't hear anything, dude." You mumble, and grind against him. "C'mon, daddy, fuck me." The whine in your voice seems to get his attention because he practically snarls as he bites down on the juncture between neck and shoulder and his hips pick back up. 

He works you back up and you fall forward to hang on to the headboard for dear life. 

"Oh, fuck, daddy. So good!" He thrusts harder and you cry out. You thrust back onto him and he groans. So close, so close.

The door slings open. 

"Dad?"

Oh Holy Mother of Fuck. 

No. 

Absolutely not.

" _Dave?!?_ "

Your ears are ringing as you feel James pull out, he's saying something but you have no idea what.

Abort.

John's face looks like murder and he's looking right at you.

Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.

He takes a step towards you.

 _LEAVE_.

You immediately sit up, ignoring John as he screams at you, just trying to gather pieces of your suit to redress. John shoves you and you hear James call his name. You manage to get your pants on before John raises his fists and catches your jaw. You ignore it, the stinging throb so distant from you.

You're not going to fight back.

You can't. 

You send James an apologetic look.

"Don't you fucking look at him!" You get shoved again before you steady yourself and flash step downstairs, grabbing your shades before leaving the house, shirtless and shoeless. You get in your car, wipe the blood spilling from your lip and fucking _abscond_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is finished!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have the whole story finished aka the last chapter (14) but I'm probably going to do an epilogue cuz the ending seems too sudden for me.

The original plan is to go straight to the shower and lock yourself in your room when you're clean. 

You didn't expect Karkat to be home. 

Which is dumb because his exam let out a few hours ago and _obviously, he isn't with John._

So you walk in shirtless, bruised and bleeding.

He's a little concerned.

"What the everloving _FUCK_ happened to you?" He springs off the couch and paces over to you, grabbing your chin and inspecting the dark mottled bruise forming on your cheek, poking gently at the split in your lip before you shoo him away.

"I'm fine."

"Well what the fuck happened?" He looks at you and his face turns dark. "I swear to god if he hit you..." You bark a harsh laugh. 

"What, James?" You feel yourself getting angry. "No, actually, it was _your_ boyfriend pulling the punches, bud."

"Why would he hit - what did you do?" You snort, somewhat offended.

"Who the fuck _wouldn't_ punch the guy they found out was sleeping with their dad?" You mean to say it with humor, but your cool kid mask is cracking and little bits of your hot mess center leak through. Your voice cracks under the pressure of your forced laugh.

"You told him?" He sounds shocked and, below that, hopeful.

"That's the funny part, man. Guy walked in and found out himself." 

"What did he do?" He asks you and stops, realizing it was a stupid question.

"Flipped his lid a bit." 

"Yeah." Is all he says and when he says it, he deflates. You deflate with him.

The question of "What now?" stifles the room and makes the bare skin of your chest and arms itch.

"Look," You start and his slate gaze flicks to you with utmost attention. "I'm gonna go shower. We," You pause. "I will work this out in the morning." 

And that's that.

You hear from James the next morning, asking you to meet him for lunch in the cafe where you first met him in person. You hesitantly agree and drive over there around noon.

This time, you spot him instantly and walk over to him. He looks up at you, looking about as guilty as you've ever seen someone, and asks you to sit.

You can already tell this isn't going to end ideally.

"How's your jaw?" He asks, genuine concern bleeding into his features and voice dramatically.

"I've had worse." You reply easily and he nods. 

"I think you will agree with me when I say we should stop seeing each other." It leaves him a breath, like it was hard for him to form the words, and you nod slowly.

"I," You pause and look at him. "think that would be best." He nods tersely and moves to stand up. Before you know what you're doing, you're standing with your arms tangled around his neck. "Thanks." You say, willing your voice not to break.

His arms wrap tightly around you and he mumbles into your hair.

"It was my absolute pleasure." You nod in his chest and pull away before it gets awkward. 

"See ya, I guess." You shoot him a salute and turn your back to him, not wiping your eyes until you're safely in the car and making your way home.

________

The next week has you looking for a second job. 

It also has Karkat an anxious mess.

Apparently he hasn't heard from John since the incident, which was six days ago. 

You have half a mind to hunt him down and beat the living shit out of him. You hate seeing Karkat like this.

Even though this entire situation is kind of your fault.

________

The next few days grant you an interview, which you totally nail.

You come home to find all of the lights off, curtains drawn. The room is completely dark save for a movie playing on Karkat's laptop.

"Hey, dude, guess who got the job!" You plop down on the couch next to his cocoon of blankets and kick your feet up on the table. "That's right, this guy." You open your mouth to brag more but you hear this sound come from his huddle. It's the most pathetic noise you've heard out of the guy and it makes you pull back the little padded hood he's made for himself. "Dude." He makes it again and you realize it's a choked sob. 

It's not unusual for Karkat to get a little emotional during his movies, but something doesn't seem right.

He makes the noise again, louder, and your chest gets painfully tight.

"What's wrong?" You ask and he starts to sob out right, launching himself out of the cocoon and wrapping his arms around your middle.

"Hey, dude, shhhhh." You pet his hair but you have no idea if what you're doing is even helping. You pull him up so that he's sitting on your lap, crying into your shoulder. "It's ok, man. I gotcha, Karkat." You can't help the impulse to rock him but that mixed with the petting seems to at least be calming him down somewhat. 

In a few moments, he's quiet save for shuddering breath and you take a chance at figuring out why he flipped his shit.

"What happened?" You ask it as soft as you can manage.

"Heard from John." He croaks and you wince.

"Not good news, I take it." And he huffs, too tired to even laugh. A phone is shoved into your palm and you unlock it, the last thing up being a text from John.

_can you stop texting me??? i don't want anything to do with you and your skanky fucked up roommate!!_

Oh. 

Yeah, that would hurt a little.

"He's a fucking prick." You say and he relaxes against you. You bite your tongue.

Now would not be the time for "I told you so".

"Everything is so fucked up." He mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. You can't help the way your breath hitches as his lips briefly catch on your collarbone. 

He catches the noise and perks up to look you in the eye. It takes a full four seconds before he crashes his lips to yours. You can feel his desperation in the way he shakes as you pull him closer. You have to move your hands from his waist as he pulls your shirt over your head, and again when you return the favor, but feeling his bare chest on yours makes it entirely worth it. He pulls away to breathe and you descend on his neck, biting and kissing your way from under his ear to his collarbones, before pushing him off of you to land on his back beneath you.

You immediately position yourself on top of him, grinding into his lap and watching with interest as his irises roll up as he closes his eyes. You rut against him again and love the way his eyebrows crease when his eyes screw shut. 

Whatever garbage movie he has playing is illuminating him in all of the right ways and as you slide your lips against his, his hands dip down to unbutton your jeans.

You don't change what you're doing, waiting to see how far he wants to take this.

And there goes his hand. Down your pants. Under your boxers and everything. 

You groan as he pumps you and quickly sit up to unfasten his pants you gently tug at the waist band and he looks up at you, pupils blown in the blue LEDS of the monitor.

"You too," is all he says and you nod as you stand up and strip, leaning down to pull his pants and briefs down before straddling his lap.

You grab both of your lengths in your fist and this sure is a thing: you totally naked with your best friend. He pulls you down to kiss you and all awkwardness leaves you as you pump your cocks together and bite down on his lower lip. He whines and pulls away to talk against your lips.

"Fuck me." He whimpers and you stop.

You'd be totally game for this if you didn't feel like you're taking advantage of him. He thrusts against you and your hand picks back up.

"You sure?" And he nods frantically, still that desperation. "Who do you want to fuck you?" You ask.

You don't want him to regret this.

"David Lee Strider, you fuck me into this couch right now or I swear to god-" You cut him off with your lips and he moans. 

"Ok, but we're not fucking on the couch." You say when you pull back and he nods as you stand and pull him with you, pulling him along to your room. You attack his lips after you close the door and ease him onto your mattress. You pull your stashed lube from behind your pillow and kiss your way down his body, slicking up two fingers and pressing one against him.

"You done this before?" You ask and he gives you a look that tells you all you need to know.  
Whatever. Just have to be better than John.

You press in your finger and the black haired boy squirms beneath you. Once the movements get easier, you dip down and play with the ridge of his corona with your tongue. He gasps high in his throat and reaches to lace his fingers in your hair. You add the second finger as you take him into your mouth and he fucking squeals under you. The noise makes your gut hot and encourages you to make more come out of him. 

You scissor your fingers as you take him into your throat and his grip tightens on your hair to the point of painful. You keep him in your throat and he pants above you.

God, you wish you could see his face.

You press in a third finger alongside the other two and start curling your fingers. 

_Just on the other side of things, can't be that hard._

You feel a bump and press into it and he _keens_.

Found it.

"C'mon, I'm good, just fuck me already." He manages between breaths and you can only oblige.

It takes no time to slick yourself and before you know it, you're inside of him.

He's hot and so, so, so tight and you can feel your arms shake from where they hold you up over him. When you're fully seated, you bend down and capture his lips, biting his tongue and earning a whimper. 

"Please." He begs and the sound of it lights a fire in your core that begs you to fuck the shit out of him.

But you start slow, getting your bearings before speeding up, he gasps and moans under you but you know it could be better. 

You hook his legs around your back, lift his hips, and try again.

Déjà vu.

He cries out, the sound filthy, and you thrust again. 

"Oh, fuck!" He moans. "Oh, god, Dave." The sound of your name from his lips makes you groan and your hips pick up an insane pace. 

He's practically sobbing beneath you and his hands slip from their grip in the sheets to grip your forearms 

Your eyes are squeezed shut against the pure sensation flooding you and when he whines high in his throat and tightens around you, you feel yourself approaching the edge dangerously fast. 

"Fuck, Karkat, I'm g-gonna cum." Apparently he's already a few steps ahead of you because he's painting his stomach in spunk and letting out the most _perfect_ sounds. Your hips stutter and your vision goes white as your whole body locks up in a fit of absolute pleasure. 

When you get your bearings, he's smiling softly up at you, breathing heavy. You smile doofily back and pull out to collapse to his side. 

"That was cool." You say dumbly and he laughs, happy and satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This porn was soooo fun to write holy shit


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys! Here's the last of it! Stay tuned at the end for big sappy end notes and also discussion of a possible epilogue.

Where the fuck is he? You know Jade has some sort of in with him, so you try her. She says to check at his place or that he might be working. 

You wheedle both addresses out of her with some charm and you figure you'll check his apartment first.

He's not there, of course. His lispy, heterochromatic roommate says he clotheth tonight at work.

So you try there and, sure enough, from the window you see him rubbing down tables. He looks over to you and you flash step out of site, pulling out your phone to check operating hours for his restaurant. 

The restaurant closes at 9pm.

Closing duties take about an hour.

He'll be out at 10pm give or take. 

It's 8:30pm now. 

You can wait.

___________

 

You wait by the door as the group from the closing shift walks out, stretching and laughing obnoxiously, and then you see him. 

He sees you too. And he tenses. 

"Just wanna talk." You say quickly, hands up defensively.

He checks to see that the others are out of earshot before he crosses his arms and sets his hip. 

"Talk."

"Look, I'm sorry about the fucking your dad thing. Well, not sorry that it happened but more sorry that you found out." You're getting off track. "Regardless, how you treated Karkat was absolute shit and you need to apologize."

"Why do you give a shit?" He must see the flush in your face because he gets a wicked grin. "Did you have him too?" He purrs and your guts drop out. "He's a nice fuck right?" And you know he's only saying this shit to get back at you for fucking his dad, to make you mad. 

It's working.

"Y'know I was his first. God, you should have heard the noises he made." He pitches his voice up and throws his head back. "Oh, John! Fuck me har-"

He doesn't get to finish his impersonation because your fist has been lodged into his face. The feeling of the cartilage in his nose POP _crack_ ing beneath your knuckles brings with it a satisfaction you rarely feel.

You hear him hissing with wet breath and when he pulls his hands away from his face you see shiny streams of dark from both nostrils. 

"You broke my fucking nose." He says, all nasal, and you laugh.

"Talk shit, get hit." You say, as cooly as you can manage. He lunges at you and you grab his fist and knock his feet out from under him, landing him flat on his back. "Alright, alright. I'm not actually gonna fight you. Me and James ended on good terms, I'd like to keep it that way. You got your hit in, I got mine. We're even." 

You're leaning over him, pinning him somewhat to the ground and from his position, he spits blood on you face. You wipe it off with the back of your hand and stand up immediately, holding your hands in the air as you calm yourself down. He stands up lunges at you again. You grab his arm and pin it behind his back. He grunts as you shove it towards his shoulder. 

"So what's gonna happen here is," You start smoothly and his grunts turn into low growling. "You're going to go home. You're never going to contact Karkat again. Not even on those pathetic nights where you drunkenly text your exes and tell them how much you miss them or how much they fucked you over. You're going to let him get over you like the snotty, runny nose you are and we'll live happily ever after, alright? Hell, maybe you'll get a happy ending too." He scoffs and you continue. 

"So I'm gonna let you go and you're going to walk home and I'm going to walk home. Sound good?" He draws a breath and you just _know_ something annoying is going to come out so you reach his arm further up his back and he breaks.

"Ok, ok, ok, God!" You nod and toss him away from you, far enough to where you'll be able to react if he tries anything.

But he doesn't. As promised, he walks away. 

"Oh, hey!" You call out to him and he turns around hesitantly, "Maybe I'll see you around campus! Can't wait to see those shiners, Freak Eyes!" He shakes his head and keeps walking but you're watching him leave with as much satisfaction as one man can feel.

God, you've always wanted to call him that.

_______

You walk back into your apartment around 11:30pm. A very concerned Karkat stands up from the couch and inspects you thoroughly, eyes falling to your bruised and bloody knuckles. 

"I thought you were going to _talk_ to him." 

"We did talk." He looks at you expectantly. "And he said some stuff I didn't like." He waits. "About you." He expression grows softer but still exasperated.

"So you punched him."

"I...broke his nose." And he laughs: real, humorous and bright.

"I'll grab the first aid kit, go to the bathroom." You shoot him a salute.

He wraps up your knuckles while trying to get answers about John out of you. You tell him what happened as vaguely as you can and he scoffs.

"You didn't have to fight for my honor, dumbass."

"Of course I did."

He calls you a dork and you kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys, we did it! I started J is for Jewelry almost a year ago and here we are with the last chapter of the finished product!
> 
> Please, as always feel free to comment, let me know if you enjoyed it, let me know what you didn't like and also _please let me know if you'd like to see an epilogue!! I'll whip something nice up if it gets enough "votes" so if you want one, tell me._
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos, you guys are the best.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely betas FaithfulDiscord and awholelotofnothingiv who joined me for the last half, roughly, and let me bother you even when you were busy. 
> 
> And last but not least in the slightest, thanks to everyone who stuck with me, has read, will read.
> 
> It's been real!


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